Bête Noire
by LindseyBee
Summary: "I used to be afraid of the dark, Doctor Crane." "And how did you get over it?" "I started sleeping with the lights off." Crane/OC interaction. Post Batman Begins.
1. The Narrows

I'm getting really into the Crane/Scarecrow fandom so I decided to make a story centered around him. :)

Disclaimer: I do not own _Batman Begins _or any relating characters

XXX

"Good afternoon, Miss Baker. And a happy eighteenth birthday to you."

"Thank you very much, Alfred. Could you show me where Bruce is?" asked Layla, stepping inside of Wayne Penthouse and gazing around with awe. Her prominent red hair was pulled into a tight pony tail, as the cold December air whipped against the back of her neck. It had been nearly three months since she had ventured off to her freshman year at Stanford University - in sunny California, respectably - where she was studying for a degree in psychology.

"Master Wayne should be in his bedroom, Miss Baker. Would you like me to show you?"

Layla gave a brief laugh. "It's only been three months, Alfred. I remember fine."

"Very well," said Alfred with a smile, disappearing into the kitchen. Layla went over to the elevator that was already so familiar to her, pressed the "2" button, and made her way to the second floor. Straight through the first door was Bruce Wayne's bedroom. Once inside, Layla noticed Bruce laying in his bed, sleeping soundly. She came over to him slowly and shook him awake.

"Bruce, wake up. It's Layla." She grinned when his eyes fluttered open, and he smiled. "You _do _know what day it is, don't you?" she asked.

Bruce gave a yawn, stretched, and slowly sat up in bed. "December tenth?"

"My _birthday_," said Layla with a pout. She said the word "birthday" as if it was the most important day of the entire year.

Bruce chuckled. "I _know_, Layla," he said, standing up to hug her around the waist. "Alfred and I have missed you the last few months. It's great to see you. How's the fancy college lifestyle treating you?" he questioned.

"It's fine." She paused, looking thoughtful. "I miss it here, though."

"Of course," said Bruce. "You've come a long way since your pick-pocketing days," he remarked.

Almost a year ago, Bruce had come across Layla in the Narrows, pick-pocketing wealthy strangers. He had confronted her, but poor Layla, seventeen at the time, had begun to cry and confide in Bruce - she told him of her parents, who had abandoned her nearly four months ago, leaving her to rot on the cruel streets of Gotham City. Once she'd finished crying, Bruce had developed a soft spot for her situation, and had invited her to his Pent House. Soon after that, he'd placed her in one of the female orphanages Wayne Enterprises funded - but she frequently came around the Penthouse, usually on weekends, and soon enough, Bruce had formed a fatherly bond with the girl. Since then, he'd paid for nearly everything Layla needed - food, clothing, and the other necessities - and just a short few months ago, her entire college tuition.

Layla nodded and grinned, revealing her teeth. She reached to the back of her head and undid her pony tail, and her long, almost waist-length hair spilled over her back. "Only because of you. If you hadn't taken care of me, I'd probably be in jail right now, or worse," she said thankfully.

"I... wouldn't say that," said Bruce hesitantly. They both knew it was true, Layla _would _have ended up in jail, probably - but he didn't want to ruminate on such a dark topic on her special day. "So you're eighteen now, Layla. Big day. What're your plans? Sneak off to the basement when I'm not looking, take a spin in the convertible?" Both of them laughed at the suggestion, because only six months ago, Layla had done just that. When Bruce had found out, he hadn't exactly yelled at her, but since then, the entrance to the basement had been kept pretty much bolted shut.

"If I have your permission this time." Layla reached into her back pocket, retrieving her license. "I _am _a legal driver now."

"We'll talk," said Bruce, patting her on the back. "Let's go downstairs. Alfred prepared a big breakfast for your birthday." He led Layla to the elevator, and they took it down to the dining room, where an impressive breakfast waited - eggs, pancakes, bacon, hash browns, fresh fruit, home-squeezed orange juice, and hot coffee - was spread across the table.

Layla glanced into the kitchen, where Alfred was preparing parfait cups, which she assumed were also for her. "Alfred, this was totally unncessary," she said with a wide grin.

"It was my pleasure, Miss Baker," said Alfred, returning her grin, "you know Master Wayne and I consider you family around here."

Like Alfred had said, Layla was already very aware of the daughterly way Bruce and him viewed her - but still she turned to Bruce, who nodded in agreement.

"Well all right then," she said eagerly, "let's dig in."

XXX

An hour later, when both Bruce and Layla's stomachs were filled with Alfred's deliciously-prepared breakfast, Layla stood up and announced, "I have to get going. I have some business in the city to take care of."

"Business?" asked Bruce curiously. "You've only been studying psychology for three months."

"I know, but when my psychology professor found out I had direct connections with Bruce Wayne... well, he was very _quick _to find me an internship in the city," explained Layla. "I took it for the experience, of course, but it also means I'll be studying here in the city for the next three months. I'm not going back to California until March."

"What about your courses?" piped in Alfred, who was noticeably pleased that they would be enjoying Layla's company for the following few months.

"I'll be taking them online. It's a great opportunity."

"Sounds like it," said Bruce, coming toward Layla to hug her goodbye. "Good luck kid, it's good to have you home."

XXX

The Narrows, as far as Layla was concerned, were the darkest and scummiest district of Gotham - she should know, she'd spent four months living on its streets, until Bruce had found her. However, although they had improved since the Batman appeared as Gotham's nobel vigilante, Layla still had the right mind to avoid them, until today. Today, the Narrows were the only place she was going to find the man she was looking for.

Layla pulled up to the nearest shabby restaurant in her cherry-colored Mustang, the car she'd dreamt of having for the last two years - and a birthday present from Bruce. Instead of entering the restaurant right away, however, she ducked into the closest alley way, carrying a small trunk with her. She took out a tiny key, unlocked the trunk, and gazed into it - inside was a long red cloak, strictly customized, a pair of dingy-looking grey boots, a red shirt, and a small black mask, big enough to cover only her eyes and small amount of forehead. Layla changed into these garments quickly, disposed of the clothes she'd been wearing previously, and entered the small restaurant, looking as collected as possible.

In the far back of the restaurant sat Salvatore Maroni who - if Layla had been informed correctly - was the new "boss" of Gotham's biggest crime mob, since the previous head, Carmine Falcone, had completely lost his mind the year before and been admitted to Arkham Asylum, where he still resided.

As Layla came up to Maroni's table, where he sat sipping booze and gazing at her very interestingly as she approached, two guards in black coats stopped her roughly and searched her before allowing her to go further. She took a seat across from Maroni with a very serious expression.

"Who the hell are you?" he said immediately, scrutinizing Layla's outfit. "And what's with the fairy tale get-up?" He paused. "I'm pretty sure that cape isn't going to protect you from any bullets, Miss Baker."

Layla's eyes grew wide. She was shocked - how did Maroni already know her identity? - but still, she kept herself composed, and she answered, "Call me Red."

"All right, _Miss_ Baker," replied Maroni with a smirk, leaning forward slightly. "What can I do for you?"

"Do you mind me asking how you figured out my identity, Mister Maroni?" said Layla evenly.

"We've talked before, _Red_. Just last year you were a small-time thief and drug dealer. Made page twelve in the _Gotham Times_, or did you forget?" Maroni smiled, while Layla scowled. "Great for you that you were never caught, but I don't make deals with anyone without getting a little dirt on them."

"Like Falcone," commented Layla. She'd done her research - on Falcone, Maroni, and especially Johnathan Crane, the man she was specifically looking for. She was so personally interested in Crane, aside from needing his assistance. She had only been studying psychology officially for about three months, but she suspected that Crane had a case of Dissociative Identity Disorder, by the looks of his masked alias.

"Exactly. Now what can I do for you, Miss Baker?"

"Red," corrected Layla coolly. "And I need to know the whereabouts of a certain Johnathan Crane, Mr. Maroni."

"We don't do deals with that asshole anymore, not since what happened to Falcone-"

"I'm not saying you have to have anything to _do_ with Mr. Crane, I just need to know where he _is_," interrupted Layla. "We've done business before, Mr. Maroni, you _know _I'm trustworthy."

"What makes you think I know where Crane is?"

Layla looked him dead in the eyes. "Because mob activity in Gotham has been steadily rising again, _Mister_ Maroni, which means you have _connections_. Connections I don't have."

Maroni hesitated for a moment, thinking over the situation. "Get me drugs from Crane," he replied simply.

"What?"

"Drugs. From Crane," said Maroni, nodding his head. "_Personally_, I don't like the guy - complete whack-job, running around in a fucking Scarecrow mask - _but_, the fear toxin he made could be useful for our operation." He looked straight at Layla, who was gazing back, listening intently. "I'll tell you where he is, but I want the drugs in return, or we'll have a _problem_."

Layla considered it. Although she'd never met Crane, she didn't exactly take him for the generous type - not the type to give his drugs out without pay, anyway. But if this was her only option, she was going to take it.

"I'll talk to Crane about it," she agreed. "Where is he?"

Maroni grinned maliciously, took out a small card from his back pocket, and scribbled down an address. Before handing it over to Layla though, he answered, "He's in the only place _safe _enough for him to show his face nowadays - the depths of the Narrows. Rumor has it he's been tweaking his fear toxin." He slid the card across the table to Layla, who pocketed it.

"Thank you, Mr. Maroni," she said calmly, standing up and turning to exit.

Before she could leave, however, she heard Maroni call from behind her mockingly, "Don't let him _scare _you, _Little Red Riding Hood._"

XXX

Well, what do you think? I'd really love reviews, and any ideas would be appreciated as well. :)


	2. Operation Fear

Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own _Batman Begins _or any relating characters

XXX

Layla felt like she was driving a very long time before she reached her destination - the address Maroni had given her, 212 Canal Road, deep inside the Narrows. She pulled up to a small, shabby-looking apartment building. Bums gathered around the nearby sidewalks, building fires and begging for change. The building itself unsettled Layla a bit, as it was quite intimidating with its large black front door, halfway off its hinges; it's many shattered windows; and the chipped bricks all over the exterior. She thought it looked about a hundred years old.

Layla stepped up to the front door hestitantly, bracing herself. It'd been nearly a year since she'd dealt with these criminal types, and she'd never before met Dr. Crane - she wasn't sure what to expect. Would he even see her? Would he immediately attack her with his toxin? She hoped not. She hadn't come here to be poisoned and then brought to the hospital for the antidote, where a number of people would likely be wondering _where_, exactly, she had been doused with such a drug.

Layla knocked once. There was no answer. She tried three more times, but still, nothing. She took a small breath and turned the doorknob, inviting herself inside. She found herself in the front room of the apartment, where an old staircase waited, leading up to a wooden door. She assumed Crane was in there, so she quietly made her way up the stairs, and knocked.

For a minute, no one answered. Layla was hoping her trip into the depths of the Narrows wasn't about to become fruitless - perhaps Maroni was only humoring her, and had given her a false address. She knocked once more as a test, and this time, a muscly man with dark black hair answered, wearing a pair of old jeans and a black shirt.

"Hello," said Layla calmly. The man did not yet open the door enough to allow her inside. "I need to speak to... Mr. Crane."

"Who's asking?" said the man gruffly.

"Call me Red," replied Layla. "Tell him I'm in need of a... doctor," she added sarcastically. The man nodded once, disappeared for a few minutes, and then returned, widening the doorway for Layla.

"Dr. Crane said he'd be _delighted _to see you, he doesn't get much company out here," said the man, leading her down the corridor. Layla didn't like at all the way he'd said the word "delighted", but she tried not to think about it as they reached another brown door. There was a small window looking inside, but it had the type of glass that you couldn't see through. The large man who had escorted her unlocked the brown door, shoved Layla roughly inside, and then closed the door quickly behind her. Layla stood still for a moment, observing the room - there was a number of pill bottles piled on top of tables, as were some instruments she didn't recognize. The most unsettling thing about the room, however, was the several large canisters of what she assumed was Crane's redefined toxin. Layla took in the sight for another few seconds, before turning to face the large mahagony desk in the middle of the room, where a man dressed in a disheveled black suit sat with a small, intrigued smile on his face. Next to him was a scarecrow mask.

"Welcome to my office, Miss... _Red_," said Crane, briefly raising his eyebrows. "I've been told you're in need of a _doctor_."

Layla sat in the seat in front of Crane's desk quickly, willing herself to show very little fear, as Crane thrived off that sort of thing like a parasite. She rested her hands on the desk. "How was your time at Arkham, Mr. Crane?"

"I prefer _Doctor_."

"Doctor, then," corrected Layla. "And your time at Arkham?"

"Useless and disappointing," answered Crane robotically, as though he'd already answered the question over and over again. "But I'm betting, Miss _Red_, that's not all you've come to talk to me about. A girl like you wouldn't come just for _that_, would she?" he challenged.

"You're right."

"Are you _afraid _of the Narrows, Miss Red?" interrupted Crane suddenly.

Layla considered his question, then exhaled. "I used to be afraid of the dark, Mister Crane-"

"_Doctor_."

"-I used to be afraid of the dark, _Doctor _Crane," repeated Layla.

Crane leaned forward again, looking deeply interested. "And how did you get over it?"

"I started sleeping with the lights off," answered Layla simply. "I've learned over time that the quickest way to conquer your fears is by facing them."

"Interesting," said Crane with a smirk. "Tell me more," he added, not questioning, but demanding.

"I spent four months living on the streets of the Narrows, Doctor Crane."

_"Four months?" _asked Crane with mock horror.

Layla glared for a moment, but recomposed herself quickly. "Yes, Doctor Crane, four months." She paused to take a breath. "They were the most terrifying four months of my life. I was beaten, robbed, and raped. Men stole from me what I'd stolen for myself. There was no fairness in the Narrrows, no justice. The same as all of Gotham, I suppose." She took another breath. "I'm not afraid of the Narrows anymore, I just resent them."

"I see," said Crane. Layla noticed he was beginning to look quite bored. He'd also removed his glasses and rested his hand nearer to his scarecrow mask, which unnerved her.

"Yes... You aren't planning on poisoning me before I've finished talking, are you, Doctor Crane?" she asked, bluntly confronting him. "That wouldn't be a very _professional _thing to do, would it?"

Crane hesitated, impressed at the way she'd been so upfront. He rested his hand on his mask, pulling it toward him.

"That's very observant of you, Miss Red," he said calmly, now glancing at the clock. "I'll give you three minutes. Impress me."

Layla stared directly at the clock for a moment, then back at Crane, who was looking at her with an eager smile. "I'll just cut to the chase then," she said hurridly, "I want the same thing that you do, Doctor Crane."

Crane seemed intrigued. "And what might that be?"

"Gotham, at it's _knees_," answered Layla seriously. "And do you know what brings people to their knees, Doctor Crane?"

"_Fear_," answered Crane instantly.

"Exactly," said Layla with a small smile. "Fear. I'm pretty good at stealing, Doctor Crane. I know my way with a gun, too," she explained, "but manipulating the mind, harnessing the power of fear... I've heard _you _are very good at that."

Crane smirked again, looking both pleased and complimented. "Who sent you here, Miss Red?" he asked.

"Mr. Maroni gave me your address," Layla admitted, "but I sent myself here."

"So what exactly are you asking me to do?"

"I need your help," said Layla. "I need your talents. Your toxin. _Scarecrow_." She hesitated, considering her next choice of words. "I want - I want _us _to bring Gotham down."

"I want all those things too, Miss Red," agreed Crane, "but _what_, might I ask, should stop me from gassing you right now and achieving those things on my own?"

Layla had considered being asked this question before, and was prepared with an answer. "I have sources, Doctor Crane. I can find information on the _Batman_, and believe me, once we've taken him down, this whole thing would get going much more quickly."

Layla wasn't supposed to know, strictly speaking, that Bruce Wayne was actually Batman. She'd simply spent a large amount of her time snooping around the Pent House, and stumbled across some interesting devices - such as the bat-shaped metal knives that batman often used against his enemies. She wasn't completely positive, however, until one night Bruce came stumbling into the Penthouse after a rough night, half-stunned by some sort of weapon and still completely clothed in his batman attire. She was supposed to be fast asleep on the couch, but she'd woken up at the time. She never told Bruce about her discovery.

Crane was seriously interested now. He was scrutinizing Layla's face, as though trying to look through her mask. "Who _are _you, Miss Red?"

"I have a mask for a reason, Doctor Crane." Layla paused. "As do you."

"Fair enough," agreed Crane. "_You _find information on Batman and deliver it to me. In the meantime, I'll be fine-tuning my drug-"

"Speaking of which," interrupted Layla, cautious to ask her next question, "Mr. Maroni gave me your address on the condition that I get some toxin from you...so..." She stopped, waiting for a reply.

Crane furrowed his eyebrows, looking irritated now. "We'll discuss that later," he answered, replacing his glasses on his face. "We'll be in touch, as soon as my fear toxin is finished... I'll find you," he continued, reaching out his hand.

Layla shook his hand eagerly, genuinely smiling now. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Doctor Crane."

XXX

I hope you enjoyed! C: Review review review~


	3. Scarecrow

Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own _Batman Begins _or any relating characters

XXX

Layla returned to the Penthouse around 11:40 PM. She had changed out of her Red Riding Hood attire (she quite liked that name, although Mr. Maroni had only said it to mock her), and was now wearing a short, striped skirt and black cardigan. She knocked on the front entrance of the Penthouse, and Alfred answered, his expression a mixture of curiosity and exhaustion.

"Miss Baker, it's quite late to be arriving home," he said, letting her inside. "Master Wayne has gone out for the evening - had to take care of some emergency business at Wayne Enterprises, I'm afraid."

_Emergency business? _thought Layla sarcastically. _How stupid does Alfred think I am?_

"How was your first day at the internship, Miss Baker?" continued Alfred.

"Disturbing. Interesting... a bit scary," said Layla easily. "My internship is at Arkham, and most of the inmates there are very... deranged. One man murdered his entire family - he said the spirits in the walls forced him to, that they screamed at him. It's an intense job, working there."

"Arkham Asylum?" said Alfred with concern. "That's in the Narrows, Miss Baker."

"I'm aware."

"Are you planning on telling Master Wayne that?"

Layla shrugged. "Maybe, but I know he won't approve." _And I don't want him to start following after me dressed as a giant bat, for my "protection"._

"For good reason, Miss Baker. It's rumored that the Narrows is where Johnathan Crane disappeared to, after he escaped Arkham a few months ago," explained Alfred.

Layla gave a small, tight smile. If only he knew.

"I know, Alfred, but I need to start taking risks, especially involving my career. Bruce has protected me for the last year, it's time that I start taking care of myself," explained Layla. She had followed Alfred into the kitchen, and was now gently the stirring the cup of bedtime tea that he'd given to her. She sipped her drink, making a face as it seared against her taste buds. "Ouch. A little hot, Alfred." She grinned and stood up. "I should get to bed. The internship might call me tomorrow if they need me, and I need to be prepared." She bid Alfred a good night, finished off her bedtime tea, and headed upstairs to sleep.

Although Layla had only been absent from the Penthouse for a short few months, her room felt foreign to her. Her large, queen-sized bed was pushed up against the wall furthest from the door as usual, but it appeared that Bruce had gotten her another present, aside from her Mustang. The pillows sitting on the bed were very a clean, vibrant white - but the comforter itself was scarlet red, similar to the color of her hair.

She liked it.

XXX

The following few weeks in Gotham City were very quiet and unprovoked, especially for Layla. On her first morning in Gotham, she had woken and immediately lunged for her cell phone, as though expecting Crane to have already contacted her, via _cell phone_. She'd realized quickly that was a foolish thought, and set to work on researching Crane's toxin, so she would have a bit of background before actually _working _with it.

She discovered quickly that the fear toxin was produced using a type of flower called the _Blue Poppy_, found deep within the mountains. She was also aware, due to her knowledge of the year before, that Crane himself had worked with the League of Shadows to poison Gotham's water supply - it was because of them that Crane had come across the flower in the first place.

Layla also did a fair amount of reasearch on Dissociative Identity Disorder, the mental disability that she suspected Crane to have. The internet, as well as a number of school books she'd brought along from Standford, told her that the disorder usually developed due to trauma experienced by the victim - a coping mechanism. Layla wondered if this was the case for Doctor Crane, or if his obsession with the psychology of the brain - _fear_, in particular - had simply driven him to develop a second personality, namely Scarecrow.

At nighttime, after both Alfred and Bruce had gone to bed (or Bruce was out gallivanting as Batman), Layla focused on developing more of a _dramatic _look for her own alter ego, Red Riding Hood. She worked particularly hard on the facial aspect - aside from her mask, which she feared someone would see through eventually, she added a fair bit of thick makeup to her appearance - very dark, very theatrical red eyeliner, as well as extremely long eyelashes. She hoped the makeup - which she never would have worn normally, except for perhaps on Halloween - would aid in protecting her identity. Especially from Bruce.

Along with all of her research, Layla did not forget about her and Crane's situation - she was supposed to find information on Batman that could be useful to their operation. To accomplish this task, Layla sometimes waited up the entire night for Bruce to come home, still dressed up as Batman. It was a regular occurrence for Bruce to go to Alfred for advice and to talk about the nights' events as Batman, so she simply listened in when they talked. She learned through her eavesdropping that Batman was currently on the lookout for Crane specifically, due to a large number of new patients being admitted to Arkham - all of them experiencing symptoms caused by the fear toxin. This pleased her, because if Crane was already testing his redefined drug, he _had _to be nearly finished with it.

Another quite interesting thing she learned from Bruce and Alfred's discussions, was that someone else seemed to be attempting to produce their own brand of fear toxin - the problem was, however, that _their _drug caused feelings of _paranoia _and severe aggression in the victim. It did not cause the irreplaceable, horrifying feeling that Crane's toxin brought upon his victims. Layla suspected that maybe Maroni was the mind behind this generic fear drug, but she didn't care much for him anyway. As long as the drug did not affect _her_.

Two weeks flew by, and Layla was becoming very impatient. During the day, she had to go out and occupy herself, pretending that she was going to her "internship at Arkham", so she did not raise suspicion with either Alfred or Bruce. Instead of going to Arkham though, she most of her time either at the library, or exploring the Narrows. She was trying to familiarize herself with them again, their intimidating alley ways and the scum that gathered amongst each other - though she had lived in the Narrows for what felt like an _extremely _long four months, much of her memory of the place, she suspected, had been suppressed. Especially after her second rape - that event in particular had caused her to begin designing her alias, Red Riding Hood, although she had not come up with a name for said character since recently. Before, she had told anyone she communicated with while wearing the scarlet cape, to simply call her "Red." She also began to carry with her a taser, various knives, and a six-shot revolver at all times. She had purchased a handy black belt to wear while in costume, in which she could tuck her devices into. She figured her original idea - carrying around a purse while posing as Red Riding Hood - was not a beneficial plan.

On Christmas evening, Layla set out after dinner to explore the Narrows, as well as to show off her new and improved Red Riding Hood attire. She was wearing her theatrical red and black makeup, her newly purchased belt with all devices intact, and a fresh pair of shiny black boots. She was quite pleased with the new editions to her outfit.

Layla was currently investigating a new section of the Narrows, an interesting alley way with a large red-colored puddle in the middle. Layla suspected blood, but it didn't phase her. She simply continued past it, but suddenly, she turned around frantically, removing a dangerous pocket-sized knife from her belt. She examined the front side of the alleyway. It was very dark, and of course there were creatures such as rats running amuck, but she could have _sworn _she heard footsteps - and hearing unidentified footsteps in a place such as the Narrows truly did unease her. She could only think of her first sexual assault...

"_Hey, little girl! What's someone like you doing in a place like this?" said the disgusting, filthy, grungy man who had been the first to rape her. The first to completely violate her, to make her experience true, raw __**fear.**_

"_I'm sorry," Layla had said, a bitter and sarcastic edge to her voice, "My parents told me not to talk to strangers."_

"_But they didn't tell you not to wander around the Narrows?" said the man with a hideous chuckle. He approached her slowly. Layla had thought she could take him on if needed - at that moment, she was not afraid, but enthralled by the possibility of beating the shit out of some creep. She needed to take her anger out on __**something**_**. **

"_Just fuck off," Layla had told him, and she'd turned to leave. She should've ran. She knew that now, more than a year after the incident. With a running start, she could've escaped him._

_The man, unfortunately, did not take Layla's "fuck off" very seriously. Before she knew it, she had been hit hard on the back of the head, and fallen to the ground, her vision swimming in and out of black. The man was on top of her, and it was cold, so cold, and she'd felt completely paralyzed - she'd just laid there and taken it, when really, she should've fought back... but she couldn't... Why couldn't she just fight back...?_

The footsteps grew nearer, and this time, Layla was prepared. She had her knife positioned appropriately, and she called out, "Who's there?" Her voice shook as she spoke, but she hoped the intruder hadn't noticed.

There was silence for a moment, until the stranger called back, in a very muffled and intimidating tone of voice, "_You_, Miss Red, are a very difficult young lady to find."

Layla exhaled sharply. Though she didn't fully recognize the voice, there were only a handful of people that consistently referred to her as "Miss Red."

"Doctor Crane?" she called cautiously.

"No," said the man, coming forward so that she could see him properly. Layla almost flinched when she saw his face, for she had not been expecting him to approach her wearing the mask. _"Scarecrow," _he corrected.

XXX

Reviews? C: And I hope you're enjoying the story so far. I'm having fun writing it, inventing my own little villian haha~


	4. Redefined

Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own **Batman Begins **or any relating characters

XXX

"Scarecrow," said Layla with a tight smile. Half of her, she hated to admit, was _absolutely_ terrified of Crane - especially his alter ego. The other half, however, was_ absolutely _pleased that Crane, it seemed, had finished redefining his fear toxin. "I have some things to tell you," she added.

"Not here," growled Scarecrow. He hesitated momentarily, then removed his mask from his face, revealing the sweaty, lanky man underneath. "Follow me," he said, ushering Layla forward. Crane hurried through the damp and bitter alleyways, and Layla had to rush to keep up.

"Where are we going?"

"I had to move my office. The police were beginning to close in on the perimeter... Something about my toxin putting new patients in Arkham," he explained. Layla briefly saw his malicious smile as they turned the corner, arriving at a completely deserted street, where a large and intimidating warehouse stood before them. "Here, I can make my medicine without interference. No cops come back here. Not unless they're called." He stepped up to the front door of the warehouse, opening it for Layla. The hinges squeaked creepily. "Ladies first, Miss Red," he said, gesturing forward.

The inside of the warehouse, in Layla's opinion, was far worse than the outside. She had stepped into about the darkest corridor she'd ever seen, and by the _smell _of it, the dirtiest as well. She was busy trying to see if her hand was visible in front of her face (it wasn't), when Crane put his own hand on her shoulder, causing her to flinch.

"Don't _do_ that," she snapped through gritted teeth.

Crane chuckled. "I thought you told me you weren't afraid of the dark anymore?" he asked, tightening his grip on her shoulder.

Layla shook him off and muttered, "I'm not afraid of the dark, I'm afraid of what comes _out_ of it."

Crane did not remark, but instead took her by the arm rigidly and led her forward, "This way, Miss Red. You can't see, so just follow my lead."

Layla did follow him, but a feeling of unease had settled in her gut. She didn't particularly _trust _Crane, of course. To be honest, he actually _frightened _her, but she was trying very hard not to show it. But in the middle of a black corridor, being led up stairs and around corners by a man who went around in a scarecrow mask literally _terrifying _people to death, it was hard to smother her fear. She was beginning to doubt if she'd made the right decision in consulting him in her personal war against Gotham - she could've done it on her own, she supposed - but she knew it was too late to back out now.

Finally, they had reached a door painted bright orange. Layla was relieved that she could finally see something. Crane let go of her arm and pried the door open by its rusted hinges, then went inside. Layla hesitated, not sure what to expect, so Crane said, "Come into my _new _office, Miss Red. Don't be _scared_, I have something to show you."

"I'm not scared," said Layla reassuringly. Crane simply looked at her with a smirk as she entered.

Inside, the room was very similar to Crane's last "office". There were still multiple pill bottles piled on top of counters and the floor - but these pills, as far as Layla could see, were exactly identical to each other. Crane's old office had contained pills of various colors. What also caught her eye was the _doubled_ amount of canisters that were now stacked in the corner of the room - the new and improved fear toxin, she assumed.

"Why are there so many pill bottles?" Layla questioned.

Crane smiled in a very pleased way before replying, "That's what I wanted you to see. Redined fear toxin. I've tweaked it so that it can be taken in various ways - before, it had to be inhaled through the lungs to produce any effects... but _now_, it can taken orally, injected, or even snorted." Crane retrieved a pill and held it in front of Layla. It was small and blue with what appeared to be beads inside - it looked far from dangerous in any way. "It's also all _concentrated_," Crane added, his smile widening, "making it about _ten times _more potent."

"That's fantastic," said Layla with a grin. She truly was excited, now that Crane had shown her his finished product. Apart of her, truthfully, still felt uneased, but a much larger felt of her felt ecstatic - if Crane's "medicine" really _was _ten times stronger than it used to be, they could bring Gotham to it's knees about ten times _faster_. "How much did you make?"

"Enough," said Crane, taking a seat at his desk - it was the same mahogany structure as before. Then, he simply stared at Layla as though inspecting her for something unusual, before continuing, "Tell me about Batman, Miss Red."

"I didn't find out much about Batman exactly," said Layla, sitting across from Crane, "I _did _find out though, that Batman is looking for you... specifically." She hesitated, anticipating Crane's response.

Crane looked bored when he answered, "Well, I already knew that the _police _were looking for me-" he paused to adjust his glasses-"but the _Batman _himself? I'm _flattered_."

"I also discovered something else I found interesting," said Layla.

Crane's eyebrows rose slightly. "Enlighten me," he responded.

"There's someone else out there, trying and failing to re-invent your toxin," Layla explained. "I suspect Maroni, but I can't be sure. All I know is that he wanted some of your drugs-" Layla stopped, suddenly remembering that she _did _owe Maroni drugs, and he hadn't given her a deadline. But seeing as it had been over two weeks, she expected that she could be in some serious trouble if she didn't deliver soon. "Crane, I need some of your toxin."

"_Doctor."_

"_Doctor _Crane," said Layla, frustrated. "Maroni will have my ass kicked if I don't bring him some soon."

"Let's talk about this fake fear toxin first," said Crane calmly, leaning forward a bit. "What effects does it produce?"

"Paranoia and aggression," answered Layla. "Emphasis on the aggression. It's driven some people into a frenzy of violence."

"How _useful_," said Crane bitterly. "I don't really appreciate Mr. Maroni attempting to reproduce my toxin-"

"I didn't think you would," interrupted Layla, "I'm not _positive _it's Maroni though, I just have a suspicion."

Crane looked thoughtful for a moment, then he smiled victoriously, as though he'd just won a competition. "I have an idea," he announced, "put out your hand."

Layla was suspicious, but she did as she was told. Crane dug through his pockets and retrieved a small object, then dropped it into Layla's palm - it was the tiny blue pill full of potent fear toxin he'd show her earlier. "If Mr. Maroni wants my drug _so badly_, we'll give it to him." He glanced up at Layla with a viscious smile. "Meet Maroni somewhere and buy him a drink, Miss Red. I'm _sure _he'll appreciate your kindness."


	5. Merry Christmas, Bitch

Chapter 5

Thank you guys so much for the reviews! C: And I'm glad you like Layla, I know OC's can be somewhat annoying sometimes.

Anyway, enjoy this next chapter.

Disclaimer: I do not own Batman Begins or any relating characters

XXX

About thirty minutes later, Layla was pulling up to the same shabby restaurant she'd last met Maroni in. She remembered Crane's instructions well - slip the pill into Maroni's drink, then report back to him. Layla only hoped that Maroni would actually be out tonight, considering it was Christmas evening. He did, after all, have a family of his own.

_But I don't,_ thought Layla viciously, thinking of her own parents who had abandoned her. Ruminating on her past actually revved her up, reinforcing her anger and desire to watch Maroni tremble in fear at her feet. She couldn't _wait_ to drop the pill in his drink.

Upon entering the restaurant, Layla did not immediately see Maroni, which disheartened her a bit. She made her way over to the bartender, who eyed her suspiciously, and asked, "Excuse me, do you know where Salvatore Maroni is?"

"Probably at home, like you should be," said the bartender bitterly. Layla didn't take kindly to his words, but she assumed he was just an old man who wasn't exactly happy to be working on Christmas evening.

"Thanks," said Layla flatly, going to take a seat at the nearest booth. So if Maroni truly was home tonight, what was she supposed to do? Infiltrate his house and poison him there? It was doubtful he'd even let her step foot into his home, let alone prepare him a drink...

Her mind suddenly shifted to Crane. If she couldn't slip Maroni the drugs tonight, was he going to be angry with her? It wasn't her fault really, but Crane certainly didn't seem like the understanding type, and if she pissed him off...

Layla shook her head, mentally scolding herself. Crane was her partner. They were going to take over Gotham, _together_. It didn't make sense to fear him the way she did.

_And when Crane doesn't need you anymore,_ said a tiny voice inside your head, _what do you think he'll do? Turn you into one of his human guinea pigs, perhaps?_

**But he _does_ need me,** thought Layla in return,** I can get him information, I can do all the work he can't, I can poison people out of his reach... He's trapped inside that stupid office of his until we gain more power...**

_And once you've gained this "power" of yours_, retorted the voice, _what do you think he'll do with **you?**_

Layla had no answer. After all, she couldn't read Crane's mind, nor could he read hers (she hoped). She also couldn't predict the future, so this mental debate she was having was quite pointless-

"Miss _Baker_," came a familiar voice from the other end of the room. Layla looked up from the booth, and noticed Maroni entering the restaurant, his arm strewn across the shoulders of a pretty brunette woman.

"Mr. Maroni, I was just looking for you," said Layla, gesturing him toward the booth. "Come take a seat, I have to discuss some things with you... alone." She cast a _look_ at the woman on his arm.

"All right," agreed Maroni, turning to who Layla assumed was his wife, and murmuring, "Wait right here, sweetheart." He then sat down vertically from Layla, and said, "I _hope_ you have what you owe me. It's been over two weeks."

"I just wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas, Mr. Maroni," said Layla calmly, "as for Doctor Crane's drugs..."

"So this whack-job is a _doctor_ now," said Maroni with a laugh. "You aren't letting him get inside your pretty little head, are you, Miss Baker?"

"_Please_ call me Red," said Layla through clenched teeth. "And no, it's just what he prefers. And I think it's best not to fuck with a _scary man_ like Doctor Crane." She paused and leaned forward. "Look, Mr. Maroni, Doctor Crane sent me to tell you that he hasn't produced enough toxin yet. He needs to make more before he can deliver any to you-"

"What has that freak been doing since he escaped Arkham? Fucking around?" said Maroni irritably. "I want my drugs, and I want them _very_ soon, Miss Red."

"I understand," said Layla with a nod of her head. "And to apologize, I'd like to buy you a drink, Mr. Maroni... and then we can continue our discussion."

Maroni rolled his eyes and muttered, "Couldn't hurt." He pointed to the front of the bar and said, "I like scotch."

"Of course," said Layla. She headed over to the bar and said to the bitter old man, "Scotch, please." The man grunted and delivered her the drink very quickly, as though he wanted to get rid of her. Then, when neither the bartender nor Mr. Maroni was looking, Layla took apart the small pill capsule and dropped the beads into the drink. Somehow, they dissolved within seconds, and she returned to the table.

"Here you are, Mr. Maroni. Consider it a Christmas gift," said Layla kindly, anticipating the moment he took a sip.

"Thanks," said Maroni sarcastically. "Now about the drugs," he continued, bringing the rim of the glass to his mouth and taking a large gulp, "Your fucking "doctor" had better wise up and-"

Suddenly, Maroni cut himself off, and made a noise with his throat - as though he was choking. He then began to convulse and attempted to stand up, but only succeeded in falling to the floor and trembling uncontrollably (_trembling in fear at my feet_, thought Layla victoriously).

"Mr. Maroni, are you feeling all right?" said Layla tauntingly, standing up from the booth. She gave a swift kick to Maroni's side, but he was now screaming too loudly to really notice. He couldn't speak - instead, he made odd sputtering sounds and shoved his fingers down his throat, as though trying to vomit out whatever Layla had poisoned him with. "Doctor Crane sends his _regards_," said Layla with a grin, "but you _will not_ be receiving any of his drugs."

Maroni glanced up at Layla with a look of pure, raw fear in his eyes. He was still screaming, though not as loudly now, as he had begun to _claw at his eyes_. He obviously couldn't handle whatever terrifying hallucinations Crane's toxin had induced in him.

Layla turned to leave, but before she could, she noticed that the bartender had taken out his phone and was dialing a number - in response, Layla quickly removed her revolver from her belt and shot him straight through the chest. He fell to the floor, apparently dead.

"Asshole," muttered Layla, heading toward the exit. The woman who Maroni had come in with was now cowering under the nearest table. Layla looked at her amusedly and said, "Merry Christmas, _bitch_."

"_What_ are y-you?" the woman sputtered, her voice trembling.

"Red Riding Hood," said Layla, now standing by the exit, "and_ don't_ you forget it."

XXX

Sorry my chapters aren't very long. I prefer to end them on cliffhangers.

Please review. C:


	6. Masquerade

Chapter 6

I do not own Batman Begins or any relating characters

Sorry for the wait. I had really bad writers block for a couple of days, but now the story is back on track. Enjoy. :)

XXX

Layla returned immediately to Crane's office after poisoning Maroni. She had seen police cars pull up in her rear view mirror just before leaving the scene - someone else aside from the now-dead bartender must've gotten in contact with them. It didn't matter though. She'd escaped without detection and adrenaline was currently surging through her veins. She felt alive, she felt in control, she felt _power_. Something she'd been so void of ever since her time in the Narrows.

The second Layla entered Crane's office, he noticed the grin on her face, and commented, "I'm assuming it went well?"

"I think I just killed Maroni," said Layla, pulling up a chair. "Was that what the pill was supposed to do?"

"Of course. I gave him 100 mg," explained Crane. "Anything past fifty could drive someone into insanity, eighty a coma. Mr. Maroni would have gotten in the way of our operation, and I couldn't have that."

"Especially since he knew my identity," blurted out Layla. She scolded herself immediately after - maybe she shouldn't have said that to Crane.

Crane adjusted his glasses and looked at her with a very _interested _smile. "And why don't I?"

"Security reasons, Doctor Crane," said Layla, maintaining her cool. "You have a mask," she pointed out.

"Not to hide behind, Red Riding Hood," said Crane smoothly.

"Well, maybe someday I'll tell you," lied Layla. She knew she would never actually want to reveal her identity to Crane - he'd be able to track her for the rest of her life then, which wasn't exactly a good thing when it came to the infamous _Scarecrow. _If her and Crane ever had a falling out...

Crane simply observed her. Layla could tell that he knew she was lying, but she thought it best not to mention anything. Instead, she redirected topics, "I need a new gun."

"A new gun?"

"I have a six-shot revolver. Well... five-shot now. I killed the bartender," explained Layla. The realization that she had actually _killed _someone, now that she said it out loud, caused something to stir inside her. A tiny, unpleasant feeling - perhaps guilt. Layla had stolen and robbed before, even beaten several men, but ending someone's life wasn't something she was familiar with. She even felt a bit uneasy bringing Maroni to his end, although she hadn't known the pill would do that. But Layla knew logically there was no room for regret and sympathy in this line of work though, so she dismissed the thoughts as best as she could and looked to Crane, who was nodding.

"Interesting," said Crane, one eyebrow raised. "Were the police involved?"

"Not until after I left," said Layla with a sense of pride.

"Let's hope they caught a glimpse of you," said Crane, taking the latest edition of _Gotham Times _out of his desk drawer.

"Why?"

"Publicity is key, _Red Riding Hood_," explained Crane. "Gotham needs to know who you are. They need to _fear _you... like him." Crane gestured to the front page of the newspaper, where there was a picture of an eerie man whose face was caked in clown makeup. The headline told Layla that this mysterious new villain was called "The Joker."

"The Joker?" said Layla questioningly. "He's dressed like a clown."

"A clown with an abundant knowledge of explosives and knives," said Crane seriously. Layla shifted in her chair uncomfortably, and Crane added,"Looks can be _deceiving_, Miss Red. _You _of all people should know that."

XXX

Layla stumbled back into the penthouse at around two in the morning, after a very exhausting and dramatic night. She had been introduced to Crane's new-and-improved fear toxin, killed two men, and possibly made a name for herself in Gotham all in one night. Crane had told her before she left that he would work on acquiring her a _much _more intimidating gun, and that she should meet him again in the Narrows the following even as well, so that they could discuss their next move after Red Riding Hood was introduced to the public. Crane was quite sure that she would make an appearance in the _Gotham Times._

Layla entered the living room of the penthouse looking worn-out. As tired as her body felt, her mind was very much awake and alert. She couldn't stop thinking about what Crane had said. _Looks can be deceiving, Miss Red. You of all people should know that. _Was he referring to her? Was he trying to say that people perceived her as innocent, but underneath she was actually a cold and sadistic killer...like him? As much as she admired Crane for his fear toxin and knowledge of the human mind, _his _cold and uncaring mannerisms unnerved her. Part of her wanted to be _exactly _as Crane was... she wanted to strike fear in the hearts of Gotham's citizens, but another part of her was terrified of what she _could_ become. Fortunately though, in her opinion anyway, the side of her that wanted to be ruthless and powerful overcame the side that was afraid.

_Haven't you learned anything yet? _whispered a voice inside of her. _Don't show your fear. Especially not in front of Crane. He'll feed off you like a parasite, he'll infect your brain. Soon __**you'll **__be the next person to play the part of his guinea pig. _

"No," snapped Layla out loud, taking a seat in an armchair in the living room. The fire from Christmas dinner had been reduced to cinders, but the tree was still as beautiful as ever. It's ornaments and other various trimmings sparkled distractingly...Layla watched them with a dreamy expression...Maybe tonight she could find some peace of mind, fall asleep in the living room...

"When did you get home?" said a sudden voice, waking Layla from her partial slumber. Bruce was standing by the entrance of the kitchen, dressed in his night clothes and clutching a mug of eggnog. She was suddenly extremely grateful that she had decided to get changed back into her non-Red Riding Hood attire in the car.

"Oh, hi," said Layla somewhat foggily. She yawned and continued, "I just got home. Long night at the internship." She couldn't yet refer to her fake "internship" as Arkham in Bruce's presence - she couldn't risk him starting to trail her around like her fucking bodyguard, especially since the internship didn't actually exist.

"On Christmas night?" said Bruce, sounding both suspicious and interested.

"Uh, well, yeah," said Layla with a grin, standing up from the armchair. She yawned exaggeratedly. "I'm beat. I'm gonna head up to bed."

"Layla," said Bruce sternly, stepping in front of her to block her way. "I raised you for over a year. I know when you're lying."

"You think I'm lying about my internship?" she assumed. Inside, she felt uneasy. Bruce couldn't possibly know about her solicitation with Crane, could he...?

"No. I believe you about the internship. I just don't believe that's why you were out so late," said Bruce with a small smirk. Layla couldn't exactly tell what he was getting at by the look on his face, but she still invented a quick alibi. Bruce obviously knew she hadn't been at her "internship" so late at night, so he was going to wonder where she _had _been...

"You're right," she lied smoothly. "I got dinner with a friend. I didn't want you to be mad at me for missing your Christmas party after dinner."

Bruce's smirk instantly became more prominent. "A _special _friend?" he asked curiously. "And don't worry about the party, it's been postponed until tomorrow night."

Layla wished she could blush on command, just to make her lie more convincing. "You got me," she said, shrugging her shoulders in false defeat. "I met up with a man...and we had a dinner. Like, on a date." She tried hard to make herself seem embarrassed; the act was working as far as she could tell.

"What's his name?" Bruce asked somewhat protectively. Layla thought that could only be natural - he had, after all, posed as her father figure for more than a year now.

"Andrew Sturtz," said Layla immediately. Andrew Sturtz was the name of her fellow classmate back at Standford who had made it a bit _too _obvious that he wanted to sleep with her. Layla had always declined, despite his persistence. She liked the sound of his name though.

"Andrew Sturtz," mimicked Bruce with a curious expression. "Well, why don't you bring Mr. Sturtz to the party tomorrow? You won't have to worry about if his face is weird-looking or anything...I can't judge," he joked.

"Why? Do you have a sudden visual impairment?" asked Layla sarcastically.

"It's a _masquerade _party," Bruce clarified.

Layla was well aware that she couldn't ditch the party. Bruce would be insulted, as well as suspicious as to why she couldn't attend. It was unusual for Layla to miss Bruce's special occasions, especially a Christmas event... But what about her "date", Andrew Sturtz? He was only a figment that Layla had invented for her story...she hadn't expected Bruce to invite him to some party...unless...

_Crane_, she thought suddenly. What if she could convince Crane to come with her? It _was_, after all, a _masked _party... Crane could pose as her date, giving him an easy entrance to practice the use of fear toxin on more human beings. All it would take were a couple of pills dropped in some champagne... Assuming Crane would even leave his little "office" for the evening...

"All right," agreed Layla brightly. "I'll bring Andrew tomorrow night. He'll be excited to meet a big-shot like Bruce Wayne." The both of them laughed, and Bruce bid Layla a goodnight and advised her to get to bed soon, then kissed the top of her head and disappeared upstairs for the evening.

Layla stayed for a bit longer in the living room, staring into the charcoals of the fireplace. Her plan was perfect. Maybe not full-proof, but it could definitely be pulled off if her and Crane played their parts right. Now all she needed was another mask...

XXX

Please review. (:


	7. Red Riding Hood

Chapter 7

I do not own **Batman Begins** or any relating characters

Thanks so much to anyone who has reviewed so far. You're all lovely. :) Keep it up!

XXX

The following morning, Layla got up very early and headed down to breakfast. The sun was just beginning to creep into the sky - it couldn't be past six in the morning. Downstairs, Bruce was looking drowsy as he sipped his coffee, while Alfred seemed to be very alert. He poured Layla a mug of her own coffee, flavored with her usual favorites, and said, "Good morning, Miss Baker. I trust you slept well?"

"Of course, thanks Alfred," lied Layla. In a _way_, she had. She'd definitely slept - the exhaustion of the previous day had taken its physical toll on her body. Her mental state, however, had filled her night with vivid nightmares and worries concerning the days to come. She had woken from the dreams, _frightened_ as hell, but by the next morning, she had completely forgotten them. Layla found it interesting that the human mind could simply erase such terror so easily.

Layla took a large gulp of coffee and turned to Bruce to bid him a good morning, but at the moment, he was too preoccupied with the morning paper. Layla held her breath...had Crane been right about making headlines...?

"Red Riding Hood," muttered Bruce. "That's what they're calling this new female villain. _Just _what Gotham needs right now, along with Crane escaping from Arkham and the Joker terrorizing the city." He sighed irritably and pushed the paper toward Layla, who took it with interest. The top of the paper clearly read **NEW VILLAIN ON THE RISE? **along with the following entry **a young woman who was identified by the alias "Red Riding Hood" terrorized and murdered two men in the Narrows yesterday evening. One of her victims was the infamous Salvatore Maroni, head of Gotham's biggest crime mob. He appeared to have been poisoned-**

Layla stopped reading at that point, and simply smiled to herself. _Crane was right_.

She passed the paper back over to Bruce and said with false concern, "Looks like the Batman will have his work cut out for him."

Bruce chuckled. "I'd hate to be that guy."

XXX

Layla left immediately after breakfast to go mask shopping before she visited Crane. For herself, she chose a beautiful golden mask with dark, sleek feathers along the rim. For Crane, she chose a mask somewhat similar to hers - what with its golden coloring - but it was void of the long feathers and had an extraordinarily large nose. She hoped that it would aid in hiding his identity... there was absolutely _no way _that Bruce could discover him. He'd be slammed back into Arkham, and then where would she be? Now she could only hope that Crane would agree to be her "date"...

After purchasing the masks, Layla dressed herself in her Red Riding Hood outfit and stuffed them into the waistband of her pants (they wouldn't fit in her belt). She bought the masks using cash rather than credit or debit, of course, so that the purchase couldn't be traced back to her for whatever reason... Perhaps she was just being paranoid, but it didn't matter. She'd rather be safe than sorry.

It was a forty-five minute ride from the mask store in the city to Crane's little hideout in the Narrows. As soon as she arrived, Layla parked her car in a somewhat hidden area - she didn't want some dick to make the decision to steal her brand-new Mustang - and then entered the warehouse. She went directly to the bright orange door that was the entrance to Crane's office, and allowed herself inside without knocking. Crane was standing in the corner of the room, observing a bottle of blue, toxin-ridden pills. He noticed Layla immediately upon her entrance.

"Ever hear of knocking?" he asked smugly, setting down the pills.

"What were you doing with those?" questioned Layla, wanting to avoid the topic of Bruce's party for as long as she could.

"I forgot to mark the milligrams on this particular bottle," answered Crane with a smirk. "I suppose we'll see when we use it."

"Oh," said Layla, not knowing what else to say. The masks that she'd purchased were pressed uncomfortably against her hip. "Doctor Crane, I need to ask you something," she continued.

"Yes?" replied Crane, looking at her with sudden interest.

"I need a date to a party."

Crane chuckled and stepped toward her. "I thought this was more of a _professional _relationship, Miss Red."

Layla swallowed hard, but still stood her ground. "It's not just any party. It's _Bruce Wayne's _party."

Crane raised both his eyebrows, his curiosity spiking. "Bruce Wayne?" he said slowly, adjusting his glasses. "How did you get invited to one of Bruce Wayne's events?" he added suspiciously.

Layla froze. She hadn't thought of this before hand...she didn't think Crane would ask. She scolded herself, making a mental note to invent plans like this more thoroughly in the future. She couldn't exactly tell Crane that she was currently _living _with Bruce Wayne.

"My father," she lied quickly, after a moments hesitation. "He works in the corporate world. He's got connections... Wayne is throwing a party tonight as a Christmas celebration. A _masquerade _party." She reached into her waistband, and uncovered the masks that she'd purchased for said party. "I bought you a mask. Obviously you can't wear your _usual _choice," she told him, her eyes flickering briefly to the Scarecrow sack that was placed on his desk. "The party is the perfect place to wreak a little havoc... inspire some _fear_."

Crane stared at her with a sort of amusement, his lip curling into a smile. "It is," he agreed, ghosting his fingertips across the large golden nose of his mask. "And you think we can get away with this?"

"We make a good team," replied Layla, grinning.

Crane looked thoughtful for a moment, and then answered, "Well then, I'd be _delighted _to be your date to Mr. Wayne's party."

"Great," said Layla, her grin widening. "Just one thing though." She paused. "Your name is Andrew Sturtz now."

XXX

Sorry this one was short. It was mostly filler. The next chapter should be _very _interesting though.


	8. A Sight For Sore Eyes

Chapter 8

I do not own **Batman Begins** or any relating characters

So, I'm not sure yet if I'm going to turn this story into a Crane/Layla twisted romantic relationship, or keep it strictly professional between them. I dropped some hints of romance in this chapter, but they could also be perceived as just making fun of each other. Some opinions would be appreciated. :) Would you all rather this story have some romance or no?

XXX

Later that evening, Layla and Crane both changed into their masquerade party attire. Layla appropriately picked out for herself a dazzling red dress, ruffled at the edges and ending at the thigh. Her bright red hair (she had just dyed it a few nights before) was also made into a long braid at the back of her head. She liked the color of the dress specifically - she felt like she was informing everyone that Red Riding Hood was on the rise, but so subtly that no one could ever figure out her identity.

Crane had also chosen his own outfit - a plain black tuxedo that looked quite nice on its own. He slicked back his hair as well, to protect his identity a bit more. Layla stepped out of the empty room she had been changing it, clad in her lovely red dress and the mask she'd purchased, and looked to Crane, somewhat self-conscious. She hadn't dressed up or worn any type of makeup since the rape. In a way, she didn't feel she deserved to - she felt like trash, used up and worn out. The prospect of showing herself off for the night was a little scary, but she was trying to think of it as a personal challenge.

"Erm," she said uncertainly, looking to Crane, "do I look okay?"

Crane contemplated her for a moment before answering, "You _are _a sight for sore eyes."

_Did he just _compliment_ me? _thought Layla. She couldn't tell exactly, but nevertheless, he still managed to make her blush. She shook her head quickly and smiled sweetly before replying, "You're not so bad yourself, Crane." It was true. He _did _look handsome. Even during times when he was sweaty and his hair was disheveled, he _still _looked appealing. Of course... Layla wasn't interested in him in that sense, she saw him as her "partner in crime", but it was only human for her to take notice if she found someone attractive.

_"Doctor."_

"Shouldn't we be on a first-name basis by now?"

"We could," said Crane with a half-smile, "except _Crane _isn't my first name. And it's not as though I know _yours_."

"For secur-"

Crane held up his hand, silencing her. "_'For security reasons,'" _he interrupted mockingly.

"...Right," answered Layla slowly. "Oh, I almost forgot, did you notice that I made the paper this morning?"

"Of course," said Crane. "Just like I predicted," he added.

"Hotshot," murmured Layla. "Put on your mask. It's time to go."

Crane smirked and secured his golden mask over his face. Although it was much different from his usual burlap sac, it suited him nicely. The large nose was a great addition - it hid his face well. Now Layla could only hope that no one would recognize him by his _eyes, _as they were quite memorable. But she found that unlikely.

"How do _I _look?" said Crane curiously.

Layla smiled. "You're a sight for sore eyes, Doctor Crane."

XXX

The pair arrived at Wayne Manor very quickly. Layla drove like a maniac on a rampage in order to avoid tardiness. She reminded herself upon arrival to evade Bruce as much as possible; she couldn't have him revealing her identity. At this point, she _had _put enough trust in Crane that it didn't matter to her as much if he found out, but she liked the mystery behind it. And not to mention Crane was kind of psycho.

Layla parked her car at the rear of Wayne Manor and reminded Crane, "_Remember_, you're _Andrew Sturtz _now. And you're my date. So try to act like you're attracted to me." She paused. "Did you bring the toxin?"

"In both pill and vapor form," said Crane. He had hidden under his sleeves the wrist straps in which he could spray his victims with the toxin, as well as a number of small pills in his back pocket. He took some out and placed them in Layla's hand. "Use them wisely," he instructed.

Layla nodded and entered the party. Wayne Manor _had _been reconstructed beautifully - and brick-by-brick, just has Bruce had intended it to be. It looked especially nice now, seeing as the main room had been decorated with various lights and ornaments. There was also that sense of mystery that Layla enjoyed - everyone was in a mask. In a way, _everyone _in the room was hiding their identity.

Layla immediately noticed Bruce near the side of the room, surrounded by guests straining have a conversation with him. He was holding a thin-stemmed glass of champagne, but hadn't yet taken a sip. She wondered if he ever would.

As best as she tried to avoid him, Bruce still caught her eye and excused himself from the crowd of people. "Layla," he said, looking pleased, "I'm glad you managed to make it to the party."

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," replied Layla sweetly, noticing that Crane had put his arm around her shoulder. "Uh, this is Andrew. Andrew, this is Bruce Wayne."

Crane lowered his voice slightly and replied immediately, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Wayne." He shook Bruce's hand tightly, and Layla could only grin at the fact that _Batman _was unknowingly shaking hands with the nefarious _Scarecrow._

"You too," said Bruce kindly. There was also an edge of protectiveness in his voice, but it wasn't obvious. "Layla tells me she's been seeing you recently."

_Fuck, _thought Layla the moment Bruce spoke her true name. She hoped Crane hadn't even noticed, but by the now-suspicious look on his face, it was obvious he _had_.

"She's a beautiful girl," said Crane with a nod, "and I'm a lucky man."

Bruce seemed to appreciate that comment. He nodded in approval and said, "She sure is. Do you mind if I cut in for a minute?" He looked to Crane's arm strewn across Layla's shoulder.

"Of course," said Crane. He tightened his grip for a moment as though sending her a message, then released. "I'll go get myself some champagne."

Bruce placed one hand on Layla's hip, the other on her shoulder, and they began to slow dance as he spoke. "Congratulations, I like him."

Layla's expression brightened. "Do you?"

"Yep," said Bruce with a wink. "He's kind of old though, don't you think?"

"I'm eighteen now, it's perfectly legal," answered Layla smartly. "Shouldn't you be attending to your guests though, _Mister _Wayne?"

Bruce chuckled. "I guess you're right," he agreed. "I'll see you later tonight... assuming that you'll be _home _later tonight, and not at Mr. Sturtz' house?"

Layla smiled in a way that was meant to look suggestive. "We'll see." She kissed Bruce on the cheek, then anxiously returned to Crane, who was lingering by the food table.

"You seem to be very _close _with Mr. Wayne, Lay-_la_," he said, clicking his tongue. His face was inches from hers, so no would be able to eavesdrop on their conversation.

"Shut up," hissed Layla. "It's none of your business."

"If you want to keep your _real_ name out of the papers, it _will _be," said Crane simply.

Layla took a moment to process what he had just said. "Are you _threatening _me?"

Crane smirked. "_Threat _is such a strong word. You just need to realize what our partnership involves. You need to be _fearless _with me."

"_Trust _would've been a better word, Doctor."

"But what is trust, really?" Crane challenged. "Fully opening yourself up to another person, despite the possible consequences. In other words, being _fearless._"

Layla scowled. She hated when he talked like such a, well, _doctor_. And she _hated _when he was right.

"Whatever," she murmured. "Have you dropped any pills in the drinks yet?"

"As many as I could without being noticed. The champagne must be pretty shitty here, no one's taken a sip yet," replied Crane, observing the party.

"They will soon," Layla assured him. "And as soon as the first person screams, you need to be Scarecrow again."

"With _pleasure_."

Layla smiled. "Remember your _mask_, Doctor." She paused. "Your _real _mask."

XXX

Review review review. (:


	9. Authors Note

AN:

So I really need you guys to answer the question I asked earlier. I don't want to proceed with the story until I know what I'm going to do.

So, would you prefer that Crane/Layla have a twisted romance in the story, or would you rather their relationship stay strictly professional? I want to write what you guys want to read, so yeah. It'd be really great if you could leave your opinions in a review. :)

I should be updating again later today, I have a large part of the next chapter already written. I just don't want to keep going until I know where I'm going to take the story.


	10. Fifty Milligrams

Chapter 9

I do not own _Batman Begins _or any relating characters

Shadowsteed: Thanks for your opinion. :3 Don't worry about me rushing things with Crane. My idea of a _twisted _romance isn't exactly him being all ~lovey dovey~ haha. After all... Layla is afraid of Crane, yet still admires him, and he's very manipulative... yeah I don't wanna give anything away but it's not gonna be all smooch smooch.

And thank you everyone else who gave their opinions. :) I'm gonna go for the twisted romance angle.

XXX

It only took a few minutes for the first victim to scream. It was a blonde woman draped in a sunset-colored dress and yellow mask. She fell to the ground, gripping her head and rocking back and forth, _screaming _at the top of her lungs, _"Please, please, don't take him! No, NO!" _The guests surrounding her who had also sipped on the tainted champagne reacted soon after her, in an eerily similar manner. Some were ripping out their hair, others twitching on the floor. But they _all _screamed and whimpered and sobbed. They were experiencing the truest and rawest forms of their greatest fears right before their eyes. As pleased as Layla was, the site also made her a bit uneasy. Crane, on the other hand, had his eyelids shut slightly and was smiling dreamily, as though he was listening to beautiful music.

"It's time," snapped Layla, tugging on Crane's sleeve. "Your mask."

"I came prepared," replied Crane. He tugged off the top of his tuxedo - which wasn't actually a tuxedo at all - and tossed it below the food table, revealing a plain colored shirt underneath. He then did the same with his golden mask, replacing it with his crumpled burlap sac that he'd kept in his pocket.

"Where's _your_ outfit, Red Riding Hood?" hissed Scarecrow, adjusting his sleeves so that the spray canisters were now accessible. No one was paying him any mind...yet. Now _everyone _had begun screaming because of the sheer panic of it all, although many of them were _not _poisoned.

"In the car," muttered Layla, flushing. "Get to work. I'll go get it... I'll act like I'm running out." She then, too, became to shout and whimper to make it sound convincing, and raced toward the exit. She shoved her way past about a dozen idiots who were also trying to leave, and made it to her car, where her outfit was waiting in the back trunk. She changed in a hurry, not even bothering to apply her makeup due to lack of time, and reentered Wayne Manor. She spotted Scarecrow in the middle of the crowd, recklessly spraying vapor in the faces of anyone he could manage to reach. Batman hadn't appeared yet, but Bruce Wayne had vanished. Layla knew he was coming back, and as much as she wanted to avoid a full-out battle with Batman, she acknowledge the fact that it was probably inevitable. It was sad, really. Layla had nothing against Batman personally, aside from the fact that he was a _huge _pain in the ass. It was Gotham as a whole that she hated - Batman just happened to be its guardian.

"SCARECROW!" shouted Layla across the room. Scarecrow looked in her direction, while also skillfully infecting another victim with his poison. She glanced at the small canisters on his wrist. "Give me one of those! I need one of those!"

"No," growled Scarecrow, "deal with the Bat." He gestured behind Layla where, as predicted, the Batman now stood intimidatingly. His sudden appearance caught Layla off-guard, so when he struck her across the side of the face, she hit the floor painfully.

"Fucker," she muttered, half of her face throbbing. Who knew someone could punch like that? His suit _obviously _aided him.

"You're Gotham's newest _villain_," stated Batman gravelly, "don't you think you could be better spending your time than with the scum of Gotham?"

Layla smirked, brought herself to her feet quickly, and swiped a sharp pocket knife from her belt. She immediately plunged it into Batman's weakest point in his suit - his lower abdomen. He grunted in pain and clutched his stomach the moment Layla removed the blood-covered blade.

"I _am _the scum of Gotham, _Mister Wayne_," said Layla tauntingly. Batman could not hide the awestruck look on his face when she revealed his identity. "And I'm _quite _proud of it."

"Then you'll need the bruises to match," growled Batman. He managed to stand up, then swung at Layla, punching her repeatedly. In an effort to block the attacks, Layla dropped her weapon to the floor, and hurriedly reached to grab it - however, Batman griped her wrist like a vise, and twisted it sharply to the side. She thought he was going to succeed in completely snapping it in half, until a sudden vapor substance surrounded them, and his hold loosened. The oh-so-heroic Batman then fell with a _thud _to the floor, now twisting and trembling and muttering incoherently.

Crane was a _genius. _

Layla turned to face her ally, but began to panic when she was suddenly struck with horrifying hallucinations - Scarecrows mask began to morph into terrifying images, and before she reacted fully to the toxin, Layla realized that _she had inhaled the gas too._

Now she was on the floor, right beside the fallen Batman. Scarecrow simply stood over her, watching as she twitched and jerked and clutched at her head. She began to pant breathily, and she felt someone lift her up off the floor, but she could not see their face, for she was consumed by her own debilitating fears and memories. _Her _greatest fears.

She could see the man in the alley way, the man who had assaulted her. She could smell his grungy breath and foul body odor, she could _feel _him on top of her, grunting as he violated her. Her next hallucination was as disturbing as the first - the first time she had been beaten in the Narrows, the way the two thugs had punched and kicked her without any remorse toward her pain. They had nearly split her nose in half... Layla hated blood...she _hated blood_... She began to whimper, "no, no, stop, no, _please._" Tears were dripping down her face as the visions continued, passing her by in erratic scenes. Her parents abandoning her, without an ounce of regret...Bruce finding her, pale and starving, crying at his feet, begging him not to report her to the police...Her second rape, the second man to violate her...he wasn't as dirty as the first, that was true, but it felt all the same to her...

_"No...no...no...NOOO...!"_

XXX

Freezing cold ice water was splashed across Layla's entire face, and she woke with a start. How long had she been unconscious? Hours? Days? _Weeks? _It had felt like a small eternity.

She didn't recognize her surroundings. She appeared to be in a tiny, dusty apartment. There was a small fireplace in the corner that served as a nice addition, but it wasn't currently lit. Her hair was undone, messily lingering across her shoulders. Her Red Riding Hood mask had also been removed. Layla sat up slowly - she was on a dark leather couch, with a pitiful excuse for a blanket placed over her. Her entire body ached, and she was trembling uncontrollably, from a mixture of what she assumed to be the freezing water and her own powerful emotions. She twisted her neck slightly in order to crack it, and noticed Crane in the corner of the room, clutching a bucket against his chest.

"What the fuck?" said Layla unpleasantly. "You think you can just throw a gallon of arctic water in my face?"

"I saved you from insanity," said Crane simply.

Layla huffed and laid back down across the couch. It eased the hurting in her back and neck. "How long was I unconscious?"

"Four days," answered Crane, coming forward. "Bruce Wayne has issued an all-out search for you, Miss _Layla Baker_," he continued crossly. The irritation in his voice was prominent. "He assumed I _took _you... I suppose he's right, in a way." He paused. "Did you ever plan on _telling me _that you _personally _know _Bruce Wayne? _That he's raised you for the last year and you are currently _living _with him?"

Layla stiffened, scrambling to come up with the right words to answer. Crane was pretty pissed off, and that scared her. "I don't...he didn't...It wasn't necessary for you to know-"

"Wasn't necessary," breathed Crane, suddenly with a frightening calmness. He crossed his arms, agitation oozing from his voice. "You inhaled at _least _fifty milligrams of fear toxin - the amount to drive someone into permanent insanity. But I gave you the _antidote_. I didn't _have _to do that, it _wasn't necessary_."

"Then why was I unconscious for so-"

"So long? Because it's fifty milligrams, _concentrated_. The antidote only stops you from becoming insane, it doesn't immediately ease the effects. I told you it was _strong._"

Layla didn't know what to say. She tugged at her fingernail with her teeth - something she frequently did when she was anxious - and replied, "Okay, I'm _sorry_... I should've told you."

"You think?" said Crane coldly, heading over to light the fireplace. "But as long as we're on the topic, is there anything _else _you'd like to share with me? Because if I find out _anything _else on my own, this little partnership isn't going to end nicely... for you anyway."

Layla swallowed harshly. The words immediately spilled from her mouth, "Bruce Wayne is Batman."

XXX

Pleaaaaase review. (: I hope you liked it!


	11. Second Thoughts

Chapter 10

I do not own _Batman Begins _or any relating characters

Okay so let me explain a bit more about this "romance" angle I have in mind because people have a lot of different opinions about it. Crane definitely wouldn't be like _oh I love you, you're my one and only, I could never hurt you _blaaah. That's not Crane's character, he's cold and cruel and apathetic. He already _has _hurt Layla (by gassing Batman with disregard for her safety), threatened her, etc., and there will definitely be more of that as the story progresses. It'll be more of like a attraction/fascination (thanks Sakurane!) and _possibly _sexual relationship at some point, I'm still debating on that (nothing extremely graphic though, this is rated T). And they would never regard themselves as "being in a relationship" or boyfriend/girlfriend or being in love. I just can't picture Crane that way.

Anyways, sorry about all the rambling! Onto the chapter! :3 (warning: filler chapter ahead)

XXX

_Bruce Wayne is Batman, _mouthed Crane, looking both pleased and thoughtful. "Bruce Wayne is _Batman_," he said, out loud this time and much more excitedly. "And you're like a daughter to him." He gave a half-smile, like he frequently did when he knew he was right or had something clever in mind. "This is perfect."

"Maybe I should stay your _hostage_ for a little while?" remarked Layla, assuming what he was thinking.

"I suppose you'd be a less annoying hostage than anyone else." He grinned, as though he had just complimented her. Layla figured that, in a way, he had.

"Uh, thanks," she said uncertainly. "If I'm here, Bruce will be less focused on Batman, that's what you're thinking, right?"

"Exactly."

"Great minds think alike," mumbled Layla, attempting to stand up off the couch for the first time. It was certainly possible, although her entire body was throbbing - especially her jaw and wrist in particular. She noticed a mirror nearby the fireplace, and went over to it to examine the damage.

It wasn't as bad as it felt. There were some yellowish bruises blossoming across the side of her jaw, and her wrist was _severely _bruised from Batman practically snapping it in half, but overall, she looked okay. She considered that maybe the physical symptoms could have been an after-affect of Crane's toxin.

"I feel like I have a really shitty case of the flu," she said miserably, wincing as she rubbed her injured wrist.

"You were just beaten up by an oversized bat and infected with fear toxin, what did you expect?" said Crane obnoxiously, appearing in the mirror beside her.

"The _toxin _could've been avoided," answered Layla acidly, turning to face him.

"Did you want me to spray _Mr. Wayne _or not?"

"I had _flashbacks_," said Layla. She reached out to push him slightly in aggravation, but Crane responded by grabbing her injured wrist tightly and squeezing.

"I know," said Crane with a smirk, suddenly malevolent. "I observed you while you were still reacting to the drug. You kept screaming about something," he paused and raised the pitch of his voice, mimicking Layla, _"Please stop, no please, PLEASE, don't __**hurt**__ me!" _

Layla gritted her teeth in a mixture of fury at Crane's imitation, and pain from his grip on her wrist. "Shut. Up." She paused to tug on his arm so he would let go, but he simply grabbed her remaining wrist and chuckled.

"How did it feel to be a victim of your own mind, Miss _Baker_? To be crippled by raw _fear_?" Crane grinned tauntingly, a disturbing ripple of sadistic curiosity crossing his expression. Layla's anger immediately dissolved and was replaced by an uncomfortable feeling.

"..You're hurting my wrist," she said softly, suddenly wishing more than anything that Crane _hadn't _figured out her identity.

Crane hesitated, scrutinizing her as he smiled, then released both her wrists and said, "In my _professional _opinion, you should work on that."

"Work on what?"

"Not being so _afraid _of me." Crane paused to relish the somewhat frightened expression Layla's face. "Not that I don't enjoy it."

XXX

That evening, Crane went to bed much earlier than Layla expected him too, although it was a bit of a relief at this point. There was small bedroom beside the living room, where the couch that Layla had woken up resided - he slept there. She, of course, was left to rest in pain on the lumpy sofa - but what had she expected, exactly? For Crane to give up the bedroom simply because she was in physical pain? If only he could be so selfless. Layla doubted he was even _capable_ of such an emotion.

As soon as she was certain that Crane had shut his door and gone to sleep, Layla spread herself across the couch and closed her eyes. Just like the night she had accidentally murdered Maroni, her physical body was exhausted, but her mind was _racing_, preventing any type of rest. She hated how Crane taunted and scared her - he seemed to get a kick out of it, like some malicious form of pleasure. More than anything though, she _hated _how she fell so easily into his mind games. She gave him exactly the reaction he was hoping for - _fear_. But it was odd, because she didn't hate _him_. She viewed him as intelligent, handsome, and clever - even if she did suspect him to be very mentally ill. She _admired _him.

However, despite all this, Layla was definitely questioning her decision to stay as his "hostage" for the time being. It the moment, it had seemed like a beneficial plan - to be away from Bruce, not having to sneak around and cover up Red Riding Hood. It sort of felt like a relief at the time, but now that she gave it more thought...she was going to be _living _with _Scarecrow_, to put it simply. And to be honest, she could also feel some guilt stirring somewhere inside of her. Guilt toward _Bruce_.

After all, Bruce Wayne had rescued her from poverty, starvation, and abuse. He had taken her in, and although she'd spent her nights in a foster home, he'd basically _raised _her. He provided for her all the necessities, and then paid for her college tuition. It was only _human _to feel a bit negatively about betraying him...wasn't it?

But then again, if Layla ever confessed these feelings to Crane (not that she was planning to), he would absolutely _ridicule _her. He'd question her commitment to the operation and probably threaten her. She hated that too, the _threats. _She could never tell if they were empty, or if Crane literally _would _take out his toxin and poison her without hesitation. She suspected the latter to be true, which is what kept her in check. That's probably what he wanted - for Layla to constantly fear him, for her to understand _without question _that she was _below _him.

She could only hope now that she hadn't made a horrible mistake. After all, it was true that Crane and her _were _capable of controlling the city in the future. Together, they made a fantastic team - they both contributed to some aspect of the plan. And when Crane _wasn't _being a manipulative jerk, he was a quite intriguing person to talk to. Layla actually _liked _him.

She sighed. Her brain was beginning to settle now that she had sorted out some of her thoughts. She figured that, even if she _wanted _to back out of this now (which she didn't), it was too late. She knew Crane wouldn't let her leave. Not without driving her insane first, anyway.

XXX

Sorry nothing happened much in this chapter. It was a filler chapter and to get some more insight on Crane/Layla and Layla's thoughts.

Leave me reviews to wake up to? :3


	12. How Do You Like Your Coffee?

Chapter 11

I do not own Batman Begins or any relating characters

XXX

Layla spent the following week mostly in solitude - well, aside from Crane anyway. Usually though, he stayed locked up in his bedroom, doing whatever it is he did exactly. He wouldn't ever allow Layla to enter the bedroom - he made it _very _clear to her that if she ever did without his permission, he would _not _be happy. So she stayed away, of course.

She discovered that the apartment that they were currently staying in was in a nicer part of the Narrows. A man who had been victimized by Crane's fear toxin had lived in it previously, but he was_ "on his way to Arkham anyway", _as Crane had put it (with a malicious smile as always), so he'd occupied the place. Layla agreed that it was much more comfortable compared to the broken down warehouse he'd chose as his last "office", but the fact that a man who was now likely permanently deranged due to Crane's experiments shook her a bit at first. She got over it quickly, though.

The thing that Layla wondered about _most _during her stay with Crane, was what the _hell _he was doing all cooped up in his bedroom. Unless he was exceptionally good at sneaking visitors in to spend his time with, he was obviously up to something. And Layla was curious. After all, she had the right to know, didn't she? They were in a _partnership_, and it wasn't fair to have double-standards. If Crane had threatened her and told her that it was _absolutely necessary _for Layla to share any and _all_ information she obtained with him, then he shouldn't be doing things behind her back - that's how she figured it, anyway. So on the morning of January third, she approached him when he left his little _cave _to make his breakfast.

"What's that weird mushy shit you're eating?" she asked, taking a seat across the table from Crane. The kitchen in the apartment was by far Layla's favorite room - unlike the rest of the place, it wasn't dusty or dark. It was actually quite pleasant, what with its yellow walls and fancy-looking furniture. It reminded her of the kitchen from foster care, which she had _far _preferred from eating trash out of garbage cans in the Narrows.

Crane looked at her like she was incredibly stupid. "It's oatmeal," he answered flatly. The circles underneath his eyes told Layla that he must've been exhausted.

"You look tired," was all she said. She waited for Crane to swallow his spoonful of oatmeal before continuing carefully, "So...what exactly do you do, locked up in your room all the time?"

"It's not _necessary _for you to know, Miss Baker," Crane answered immediately.

"I thought we were in a _partnership_," huffed Layla.

Crane pushed his breakfast to the side and glanced at Layla with a look that could _kill_. "I _assure _you that it's not necessary for you to know," he said coldly.

Layla exhaled sharply. She wanted to question further, but the expression on Crane's face was telling her she _really _shouldn't push it. "Okay," she said quietly, then continued on with a different topic, "What's been going on in the news? There's no TV here. You never let me see the papers."

"You've never _asked_," said Crane irritably. He got up and left the room for a moment, disappearing into his bedroom, and came back with a copy of the _Gotham Times_ in his hand. He slapped it onto the table and slid it over to Layla, who took it instantly. "_Red Riding Hood_ made the front page." He paused and smiled briefly, sitting down. "_Layla Baker _is on page four though."

Layla skimmed the two articles. The first page talked about her and Crane, as Red Riding Hood and Scarecrow. How they had teamed up and were potentially "very dangerous" and "all Gotham citizens" should be aware. She rolled her eyes, unimpressed with Gotham's reaction to their slow rise in power. Like being _aware_ would stop anything.

The second article, pushed back to page four, talked about _Layla Baker _and how she was being held hostage by Johnathan Crane somewhere in the city. Apparently Bruce was offering a reward for any information pertaining to the kidnapping.

"So I'm supposedly being held hostage by a psychopath in a scarecrow mask, and they pushed me back to page _four_," said Layla, tossing the paper aside. "Glad I'm worth so much to the city." She paused. "This is why I invented Red Riding Hood in the first place. No one cares unless you make a _scene._"

Crane smirked. His mood seemed to rising steadily from the miserable asshole he had been just a few minutes ago. "Bruce Wayne is offering a reward for any information on your _disappearance._"

"And? You wanna go cash in on that?"

"Actually," said Crane, standing up to prepare himself a cup of coffee, "that's _exactly _what I was thinking."

Layla looked at him confusedly. She also noticed he was preparing two cups of coffee, but that was unimportant. "So you think Bruce is going to hand over the reward money to my kidnapper?"

"Well, no," said Crane, glancing at her. "How do you like your coffee?"

"What?"

"How do you like your _coffee_?" repeated Crane exasperatedly.

"I didn't ask for any coffee," answered Layla, slightly suspicious.

"That doesn't answer the question," he said persistently.

Layla exhaled, knowing Crane _obviously _wasn't going to allow her to refuse the coffee for whatever reason, and replied irritably, "Black."

"Anyway," continued Crane, returning to the kitchen table with two mugs of steaming black coffee. He passed Layla's cup to her rather forcefully. "I wonder how Mr. Wayne would react if I were to pay him a visit with _you_."

"As what? Your partner?" said Layla, eyebrows raised as she tried to decipher Crane's plan.

"As my _hostage_," Crane clarified.

Layla considered his idea for a moment, trying to fit it all together._ "Oh_,_" _she said, finally fully understanding. "He won't hurt you if I'm there. Because you could-"

"Kill you," finished Crane with a smile.

"Uh, well, I was going to say poison, but sure," replied Layla, shifting in her chair uncomfortably.

"Don't look so _scared_," said Crane, noticing that Layla now seemed somewhat unnerved. He had on that same expression he wore every time he knew he was frightening her; a look of power and entertainment. "I'm not _actually _going to kill you."

"Good to know," mumbled Layla, looking down at her coffee.

"Drink that," said Crane, following her gaze. "You'll need the energy."

_That _was certainly suspicious. Layla grabbed a spoon off the counter and stirred her coffee gently. Nothing seemed abnormal about it, but that didn't erase her suspicions. She glanced up at Crane, who was looking a bit _too _nonchalant, and instantly realized what was happening.

"What did you put in this?" she demanded.

"Coffee," answered Crane calmly, taking a sip of his own.

"Bullshit," said Layla, pushing her mug away. "If you're going to try and poison me, you could at _least _ask for my permission."

An impressed-looking smile appeared on Crane's face. "I would, but it's not as though you'd agree to it."

"So you _did _put something in this," said Layla incredulously.

"It was only ten milligrams," explained Crane, now stirring his own coffee, "I thought it could help you... _clear your head_ for our visit to Mr. Wayne's."

"What?" said Layla. She was certainly angry, but she was trying to smother the emotion for her own sake. She didn't want to start anything with Crane, not right now anyway.

"You don't _have _to drink it," said Crane, sounding bored now.

Layla said nothing. Instead, she gave a quick shove to the coffee mug, and it fell to the hard kitchen floor, shattering on impact.

"Do _not _try to poison me anymore," she said sternly.

"No promises," said Crane, half-smiling. "Anyway, you should really go get dressed. We're leaving soon."

"I _am_ dressed," said Layla, casting a quick glance at her current outfit. It was pretty plain - a black shirt and oversized sweatpants.

"Wear something nice," Crane instructed. "I like you better when you're dressed up."

XXX

Review please? C:


	13. Absolut Vodka

Chapter 12

I do not own _Batman Begins _or any relating characters

XXX

Layla ended up putting back on the fancy red dress she had originally worn to the masquerade party. She thought it made sense - if Crane had taken her hostage while wearing the dress, why wouldn't she _still _be wearing it? It made the whole ordeal a bit more convincing.

"After this," said Layla irritably, as they entered Crane's large white van - they couldn't take her mustang for obvious reasons, "you're buying me alcohol."

"And why on earth would I do that?" asked Crane, starting the ignition.

"Because if you're gonna have a gun pressed against my head, then you owe me," explained Layla, gazing into the mirror above the passengers seat. She was currently applying a fair bit of makeup to herself, but not her Red Riding Hood makeup - she was trying to make herself look exhausted, her eyes a bit more sunken, her face paler than it was. If she was supposed to be _Scarecrow's _hostage, she figured that she would have been experimented on a number of times already, making her mental state completely unstable. Which would eventually would cause her to look physically ill as well.

"Fair enough," agreed Crane.

Layla recalled Crane saying the before, when they'd first met - _fair enough_. If she remembered correctly, he'd been asking her about her identity at the time, and she'd pointed out that _he _also had a mask. She thought back, ruminating on the memory. It was amazing how their relationship had gone from so _strictly _professional and secretive to... well, whatever it was now. Had it _really_ only been three weeks since then?

"Okay, good," said Layla, leaning back against the seat. "I like absolut vodka. Oh, and how do I look?" She turned to face Crane so he could get a glimpse of her face.

He nodded in approval. "Good. You look tired."

"I was trying to make it more convincing."

"Well," said Crane, turning the corner. Just up ahead was Bruce Wayne's penthouse, "if you'd just _taken _the ten milligrams, you wouldn't _have _to make it convincing."

"Don't you think you've fucked with my head enough?" asked Layla, exiting the van.

"You haven't lost your mind yet, have you?" said Crane. As they took the elevator up to Bruce's floor of the penthouse, he grabbed her harshly by the hair, took a handgun out of his back pocket, and pressed it against her temple. Layla hadn't expected that at all - she cringed when she felt the cool metal on her face.

"What the _hell_."

Crane chuckled. "We have to make it _realistic_, don't we?"

Layla said nothing. As soon as they reached the entrance to Bruce's floor, Crane reached out and rang the doorbell, _very _casually. Within seconds, Alfred had appeared in front of them, but said nothing as he instantly realized who was at the door.

"Alfred," whined Layla, trying to sound convincing.

"I think I have something that Mr. Wayne might be interested in," said Crane calmly, while Alfred said nothing. He cocked the gun against Layla's temple, and she inhaled sharply. This was becoming a bit _too _realistic for her liking.

XXX

In just a few minutes, Crane and Layla had been let inside Bruce's penthouse, and were now sitting at the kitchen table. Layla was absolutely _amazed _that Alfred allowed Crane inside - but then again, what choice did he really have? He was threatening to _kill _her.

Bruce came to join immediately. The look on his face seemed to be a hybrid of fury and concern - Layla assumed the concern was aimed toward her. She gave him her best "Bruce-please-help-me" expression as he sat down across from Crane.

"Let her go, _Crane_," said Bruce immediately, referring to Layla. He said the word "Crane" as though it were acid on his tongue.

"Let's just talk for a minute, Mr. Wayne," said Crane coolly.

"What the _hell _do you want?" asked Bruce furiously.

"To make a deal," Crane replied simply.

"I don't make deals with criminals," said Bruce seriously. "Now let her go."

"Mr. Wayne," said Crane, pausing for a moment to adjust his glasses, "I can assure you that if you _don't _make a deal with me, it won't end well for Layla... _or _your little alter ego."

"My alter ago...?" asked Bruce slowly. He glanced quickly at Layla, then set his eyes back on Crane, who was grinning cruelly.

"Your "daughter" here has more uses than just experimentation, _Batman_," said Crane calmly.

Bruce's gazed shifted to Layla once more, and he said in a quietly shocked sort of way, "You _knew_?"

"Bruce, I'm sorry-" began Layla, before Crane gripped her firmly by the face, silencing her.

"Anyway, Mr. Wayne," continued Crane, "if you want Layla back here with her mind still fully intact, you'll listen to me."

"I _am _listening," said Bruce through gritted teeth. His hands were clenched tightly into fists, and it was obvious his anger and confusion were rising by the second.

"You put me in _Arkham_, Mr. Wayne," said Crane irritably, "the asylum that _I _was originally in charge of. Not only was that embarrassing, but it was also quite _annoying_." He stopped to catch a glimpse of Layla from the corner of his eye, then smiled and went on, "I want batman to stay out of my operation this time."

"If you think I'm going to let you go back to terrorizing the city-"

"If you _don't_, Mr. Wayne, there _will _be consequences," said Crane, releasing Layla's face and once again gripping her by the hair. "It's up to you to decide what you value more, Mr. Wayne. What are you more _afraid _to lose?" He paused. "Layla, or Gotham."

Bruce said nothing. Layla could tell by the expression he had on that he was deeply considering Crane's words, which sent a pang of guilt through her. Was he actually debating between her and the entire city of Gotham? Was she truly _that _important to him?

"I'll give you some time to think about it, Mr. Wayne," said Crane, standing up and pulling Layla along with him.

Bruce stood up swiftly, coming nearer to Crane. "You're not leaving with Layla," he said firmly.

"Aren't I?" challenged Crane, smirking as he stood by the exit.

"No, you _aren't_." Bruce looked as though he were about to punch Crane right across his smug face.

However, Crane retaliated quickly. "Have it _your _way, Mr. Wayne." He moved the gun briskly, and for a moment, Layla was afraid he was about to shoot _her _in a less lethal part of her body, but when the shot fired, she felt no pain - instead, she witnessed Bruce crumpling to the floor, clutching the side of his stomach in pain.

With that, Crane clutched Layla by the arm and _pulled _her all the way out of the penthouse. Layla was sure the police would be arriving soon, so she didn't complain. They got into Crane's van, the tires screaming as they drove away going _far _above the speed limit. Crane took the back roads to lessen their chances of being seen. Layla felt relieved when they had gotten a fair distance away from the penthouse without being pursued.

"I _literally cannot _believe that _worked_," said Layla in an out-of-breath sort of way. "But that's all you wanted to go there for? To _threaten _him?"

"Now he'll think twice about interrupting our plan," said Crane, stopping so suddenly in front of a liquor shop that Layla flew forward and hit her forehead on the windshield. "Especially since I still have you as my _hostage._"

Layla grumbled, rubbing the part of her forehead that was now throbbing, and glanced at the store that Crane had brought her to. "What're we doing here?" she asked crossly.

"Quick stop," said Crane, getting out, "you _did _say you wanted alcohol, correct?"

"Oh, right, yeah."

"Wait here," Crane instructed, disappearing inside the store.

Layla waited in the car, pondering what had just happened. Honestly, a large part of her _hadn't _expected Crane's ridiculous plot to work. She felt sure that Bruce was going to do more than _that _back at the penthouse - and although she felt more relaxed now because he didn't, the pang of guilt she had developed was still distracting her. Bruce cared for her so deeply that he had been conflicted about what to do. That's why the plan had even _worked _in the first place. If not for such an inner conflict, Bruce would have kicked Crane's ass. Layla couldn't believe she meant so much to him. What was so special about_ her_?

A few minutes later, Crane came sprinting out of the liquor shop. He had on his burlap sac and was clutching four bottles of absolut vodka. Behind him, there was an alarm going off in the shop, and the very obtrusive sound of a man screaming at the top of his lungs. Crane got into the van and took off.

"What the hell just happened?" asked Layla, although she was pretty sure she already knew.

"I sprayed the cashier," said Crane, in the gruff and frightening voice he put on whenever he wore his mask. "I hadn't sprayed anyone in over a week, _he had it coming_."

"What?" asked Layla, but when Crane did not answer her, she thought about it for herself... Was that why he had been spending so much time in his room? After all, he'd looked absolutely _exhausted _when he came out for breakfast, not to mention angry and more than likely depressed. Layla already suspected him to have Dissociative Identity Disorder, but could it possibly be that _severe_? Did the monster that lived inside of him literally _prey _off of fear?

Layla was scared to voice these questions, especially while Crane was Scarecrow. However, when he took the mask off, she still couldn't find it in herself to ask. She was too afraid of his reaction, so she simply said, "Why'd you get so many bottles?"

Crane smirked. "I thought we could share."

XXX

Wooo getting drunk in the next chapter like yeah~

I hope you enjoyed it. It was kind of difficult to write. I didn't want Crane to get caught when he went to visit Bruce, but I wasn't sure how Bruce would actually react to a situation like that, so I just went with it. Reviews would be appreciated. (:


	14. More Than A Professional Partnership

Chapter 13

I do not own _Batman Begins _or any relating characters

There's kind of some ~more mature than usual~ content in this chapter. It's not extremely graphic or anything, but just letting you all know.

PS: I didn't get a chance to spell check this so I'm _really _sorry if there are any mistakes. I'm about to go out with my friend and I wanted to post this before I left. I'll look over it later.

XXX

Back at the apartment, Layla took a seat at the kitchen table. Crane set the bottles down in front of her and said, "You're welcome."

"I thought you were going to _shoot _me," Layla pointed out, cracking open the first bottle. She took a large gulp and coughed, clearing her throat as the vodka seared against it. She was used to the sting, though - she didn't like to talk about it openly (she didn't want to smear her reputation), but back at her college campus, she had been a _big _drinker.

"It's not like I don't have time in the future to do that," Crane remarked sarcastically, smirking. He took the gun from earlier out of his back pocket and placed it on the table. "I recall you mentioning that you needed a better gun?" His smirk steadily became wider as Layla took the gun with relish. "This is a semi-automatic pistol."

"Oh, this is awesome," said Layla excitedly. "Better than the revolver anyway, in my opinion." She sounded somewhat slurred. Probably due to the fact that Layla had filled a tall glass to the brim with vodka, and half was already gone. "I didn't think you'd actually come through with that, Crane."

"Do-"

_"Doctor," _interrupted Layla mockingly, sipping the remainder of her vodka. "Hahaha... I'm too drunk for this," she continued in a slur. "But uh, that's stupid, how I have to say _doctor_."

Crane smiled. It was obvious she was more _open_ in her drunken state. She would've never criticized a "rule" of his while she was sober. "I was under the impression that you wanted to keep our relationship strictly _professional_. That means professional names."

Layla returned his smile. "I don't remember that," she said with a shrug. She picked up her glass of vodka and tipped it toward her mouth - it was still about one-fourth full. She lost her grip on it easily, however, and the glass slipped from her hand, blistering into pieces when it hit the ground. The remaining vodka was also in a puddle on the floor.

_"Whoopsie,"_ said Layla, giggling now. She reached over the pick the glass back up, but Crane took her by the wrist and placed her hand on the table.

"Maybe you should stick to sobriety from now on," he said, cleaning the mess himself. He looked up at Layla, who was smiling stupidly and continuing to giggle for no reason. As annoying as it was, it was _more _amusing. Plus, she was in a _vulnerable _state...

"You know, I've been wondering something," said Crane curiously.

"Mmm?" Layla asked, spacing out a bit now.

"_Your _fears," said Crane pointedly. "Obviously, you fear me-"

Despite her intoxication, Layla was listening as intently as she could. When Crane brought to her attention that he was aware of how _he_ frightened her, she couldn't stop herself from going extremely red in the face.

"I... admire you more than anything," she admitted drunkenly, attempting to justify the situation.

"Do you?" said Crane, raising an eyebrow. He leaned forward, taking legitimate interest in what Layla was saying.

"Well, sure, you're smart, clever... handsome." She cleared her throat awkwardly, and began to stand up and head toward the couch. "I was gonna go to bed though, I feel sick." Honestly, she just didn't like where the conversation was headed. Although she was quite _aware _of how intoxicated she was, she was still _messed up_, and it was the perfect opportunity to dig deep inside her head. He'd done enough of that already, she didn't want him to do it when she wasn't even fully conscious of what she was saying.

"But it's the afternoon, Miss Baker," said Crane, grabbing Layla by both wrists, just as he had only a week ago.

"I know, but um," she began, struggling incoherently in his grasp, "I guess I drank too much..."

A moment later, Crane had Layla up against the wall, her wrists pinned down. Layla stiffened when he suddenly had his hips pressed against hers in a very _indicative _way.

"Dr. Crane..." she said worriedly.

Crane brought his lips against Layla's ear and said calmly, "Tell me about your _fears_, Lay-_la_." He spoke her name the same way he had the very first time he'd discovered it.

Layla exhaled and said anxiously, "I thought we weren't on a first name basis."

"Exceptions can be made," said Crane suggestively. He brought his mouth to Layla's neck and smiled against it.

Layla relaxed her body slowly. Crane noticed this and pressed his hips harder against hers, and she bit her lip and groaned, "D-Doctor Crane..." Some tiny part of Layla's brain was still wondering _what_ exactly was going on here, but it didn't matter - she felt like she was in a haze.

Suddenly, Crane pulled away from Layla, completely disrupting her "hazy" feeling. In response, she made a small whining noise without thinking, and Crane, still holding onto her wrists, said simply, "Perhaps _I've _had a bit too much to drink, too."

Layla bit her lip again, harder this time. "I didn't see you drink anything," she mumbled.

Crane smirked, giving Layla the _look _she'd come to know meant that he knew he was frightening her; _he _was in control, and he was _very _aware of it. Another expression Layla didn't recognize fully, however, was mixed in with the rest - was it _lust? _

"Good observation, Miss Baker," he remarked, resuming what he was doing.

Layla tilted her head back a little, resting it against the wall, and closed her eyes. "What's going on here...?" she murmured, somewhat disconnectedly.

"More than a professional partnership, obviously," said Crane against her neck.

Layla nodded. _Somehow_, this all felt perfectly logical at the moment. She had a feeling she would regret later on though, but as much as she _knew _that, she could not bring herself to pull away...

Suddenly, _of course_, there was a harsh knocking at the door, followed by a somewhat high-pitched, maniacal voice calling, _"Knock knock, Doc."_

It was Crane who ended up pulling away. He gave Layla a small suggestive smile and said, "I should go get that... our guest is here."

XXX

Everyone should review this because so much just happened hehe~

But seriously, reviews are nice. C:


	15. Inside Her Head

Chapter 14

I do not own _Batman Begins _or any relating characters

Enjoy. C:

XXX

"Guest?" asked Layla breathlessly, still caught up in what had just occurred. "Who...?"

"Go wait in my room, he can't see you without your Red Riding Hood outfit," Crane instructed, ushering her toward his bedroom. He shoved her inside quickly, shut the door behind him, and went to answer the front door, leaving Layla isolated.

Due to the fact that she was still quite drunk, Layla stumbled over to Crane's bed and sat down, rubbing her temples as they throbbed from a mixture of intoxication and her raw confusion. What the _hell _had just happened? Had her and Crane just had an... _intimate moment_? Perhaps she was just imagining it all, after all, she _was _very drunk...

Layla shook her head. No, no, it was all real, and she knew that. She just couldn't believe it. Where had _that _come from? After all, she hadn't initiated it, _Crane _had. He hadn't been drinking at all, Layla had noticed. So it obviously wasn't a case of simple drunken horniness...

Layla gazed around the room now, although it was spinning a bit. Her thoughts were overwhelming, she needed a distraction.

The first thing she noticed about the room was how particularly _clean _it was. The bed was made nicely, the carpet spotless, there was no dust to be seen, unlike the majority of the apartment... The only untidy area of the entire room, it seemed, was the desk in the corner. There were dozens and dozens of papers littered across the thing... as well as a laptop...

Layla knew Crane wouldn't like it, but she took a seat at the desk (it was the same mahogany one as before), and shuffled through the papers. She was curious as to what Crane did with all his spare time, and she had a feeling this was how she would find out.

Many of the papers centered around fear, the psychology of fear, fear and the mind, etc., which didn't surprise her. He was absolutely _obsessed _with fear. Or perhaps it was Scarecrow who was so infatuated? It didn't really matter, of course, because in the end Crane _was _only one person, despite how deranged his mind seemed to be.

An article that particularly caught Layla's attention, however, was _not _about fear. It was about... _her_. It was the article about Red Riding Hood (before she had her name) from about a year ago, when she had been nothing but a simple thief and occasional drug dealer. The article talked about a "mysterious red-caped vigilante" that was "suspected of selling drugs to the mob." There was a description of her appearance, but no mention of her identity. She wondered why Crane had this...

The next article that Layla came across was _also _about her, although it wasn't particularly an "article." It was a list of Stanford's current undergrads and their majors. Layla spotted her name on the list, _Layla Emily Baker; DOB: December 10th, 1988; Psychology. _Crane had circled Layla's information in red ink and underlined the word "psychology."

As Layla cautiously searched through more and more papers, it became apparent that Crane had done a particularly _large _amount of research on her. There were documents that talked about her residency in foster care, and the dozens of therapy sessions that she'd been forced to go to for her _"emotional problems"_... there was also mention of the many medications she'd been administered, all of which she'd refused to take... her mental health diagnosis that they couldn't accurately _diagnose _because she'd stayed silent in most of her psychiatrist appointments... Followed by a police report that documented the two rapes she'd reported... neither had been taken to court due to lack of evidence... Layla had been _crushed_...

Crane was keeping serious tabs on her. And he knew _everything_, which absolutely terrified her. There was nothing left for her to hide, because he already _knew_. She felt like her head had been cracked wide open, making everything completely visible to him. Is that all that Crane wanted from her, to dig inside her mind and infiltrate her memories? She knew he was particularly interested in her fears, but she'd been prepared for that since the very beginning of their partnership. What she hadn't realized, however, was the _extent _that Crane would go to get inside her head. Had he really put that much _interest _into _her_?

Layla arranged the papers exactly as they had been before and crawled into Crane's bed. She was still quite drunk, but her intoxication did nothing to dissolve her racing thoughts. She knew she couldn't confront Crane about what she'd discovered, because then he'd know that she'd been going through his files, which would likely make him _very _angry... It seemed like she was just going to have to close herself up a bit, not let him in any further... That meant no more intriguing, casual conversations. No more _intimate _moments. It had to be strictly professional, just as it had been in the very beginning.

_That's never going to happen, _said a small, viciously honest voice in Layla's head. _And think about it, was it ever really just a __**professional **__relationship to begin with?_

Layla had no time to fully ponder this thought, as Crane had just entered the bedroom, looking irritable. Layla shut her eyes tightly in an attempt to appear asleep. It wasn't until about half an hour later, while Crane was busy at his desk, that she slipped quietly (and accidentally) into true sleep.

XXX

Layla woke in the middle of the night with a wicked headache and upset stomach to match. Immediately, she raced out of bed and into the small, personal bathroom in Crane's room, then leaned over the toilet and vomited, and collapsed onto her knees, breathing heavily.

"Having fun?" said Crane's voice, appearing behind her.

"Oh, absolutely," said Layla bitterly, leaning over to puke a second time. "I'll never drink again," she promised miserably.

"I'd pay to see that," said Crane with a smirk. After Layla's stomach had settled and she was sure she had finished throwing up, she wiped her mouth on a towel and gurgled with water, then turned to face Crane, who looked very tired.

"Haven't you slept at all yet?" she asked.

"Well, you were in my bed," said Crane simply. "But perhaps _I _should have been, too," he continued with a suggestive smile.

"Um," Layla swallowed hard, not sure what to say. She _wanted _to ask him what the hell had happened the night before, but she didn't know if she'd like the answer... "I... should get dressed... and everything," she continued quickly, heading toward the door. Crane gripped her by the arm, however, and pulled her back.

"Dr. Crane-" she said nervously.

"I thought you'd like to hear about the guest who stopped by last night," he said, smirking.

"Oh, yeah," said Layla, "who was it...?"

Crane looked slightly annoyed when he answered, "The Joker."

XXX

Reviewwww pretty please? :3


	16. Step Into My Office

Chapter 15

I do not own _Batman Begins _or any relating characters

Updating again because I have nothing better to do today~ C':

XXX

"The Joker?" said Layla curiously. She pulled her arm from Crane's grip and continued, "Why was the _Joker _here?"

"I was trying to get him to work with us," Crane explained, "he wants to send Gotham into chaos, I want to control Gotham under my own rules... I suppose we have similar goals." He paused. "But apparently the Joker _works alone_."

"Not exactly," Layla disagreed. She didn't particularly want Crane communicating with the Joker - he was a sadistic, out of control psychopath... She supposed Crane was too, but at least he hid it well enough and was a bit more predictable. The Joker was literally _insane_. But then again, so was _she_ - she was concerned about Crane's _safety_, when she was pretty sure he'd douse her with fear toxin in a second if it would benefit his plan. "The Joker's out of his mind. He'll kill _you." _She poked Crane in the chest, then noticed the desk in the corner again, and remembered all the tabs he was keeping on her. She wanted to ask him what the _hell _that was about, but that would mean revealing that she'd gone through his files...

"Even the Joker has fears, Miss Baker," Crane pointed out. Layla supposed he was right - each and every human being held inside of them some type of fear, no matter how well they smothered it. But what on _earth _could the Joker be afraid of?

"Miss Baker," mumbled Layla, glancing once again at the desk in the corner. "You told me last night we were on a first-name basis."

"I said _exceptions can be made_," quoted Crane with a curious smile. "And I've never heard you call me _Johnathan _before."

"Because that would be weird," said Layla, rolling her eyes. "Anyway..." she cleared her throat nervously, "um, what exactly happened last night...?" she asked slowly.

A very sly expression appeared on Crane's face. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he answered coolly.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about," Layla persisted, looking frustrated.

"I'm not sure I do..." Crane insisted, trailing off.

"Don't treat me like a _child_, Doctor Crane."

"Well I didn't last night, _did I?_" said Crane a bit seductively, then pushed Layla out of the way in order to go into the next room.

Layla followed him immediately and called, "Hey, I had another question!"

Crane stopped in the kitchen, then turned to face her. "Yes?"

Layla swallowed. She was going to ask why he was keeping tabs on her, and she was going to ask with a _brave face_... After all, she had a right to know why, exactly, he had her entire life story sitting on his desk... didn't she? "I, um-" she rubbed the back of her neck anxiously and questioned- "I wanted to know about the papers in your bedroom."

"The papers in my bedroom," said Crane slowly, considering it. Layla was absolutely _relieved _that he hadn't gone off on her... perhaps he wasn't angry at all. "I don't remember _showing _you those papers, Miss Baker," he said, agitation creeping into his voice.

Layla noticed his sudden irritability and said quickly, "I...saw my name on one of the papers and started reading and-"

"And that changes anything?"

"Doctor Crane," said Layla bravely, "I think I have a right to know why there are papers in your room with my name on them."

"Perhaps I was just curious," said Crane, scrutinizing her.

"You know about my rape. Both of them," said Layla. She wasn't sure where she was going with this, the words had just spilled out of her mouth.

"You must have been so _scared_," said Crane mockingly, smirking now. His agitation seemed to have vanished, but Layla wasn't amused in the slightest. "Is that what you were screaming about when I-" he stopped to clear his throat-"accidentally sprayed you with the fear toxin?"

"Accidentally is a _strong _word," she said, teeth gritted. Layla had been suspicious that Crane had sprayed her on purpose since the moment it had happened, and his sarcasm toward the situation was only proving her correct. "I'm glad you think it's _funny_, by the way."

Crane ignored her second remark. "I also _saved you _from insanity after _accidentally _spraying you," he reminded her.

"Oh, well _thank _you," said Layla angrily.

"Don't worry, I'm sure you'll find _some _way to repay me."

_"Some way to repay you?" _Layla said heatedly. She was shaking with anger now - in the course of just five minutes, Crane had insulted her, undermined her, disregarded her feelings, and made her _furious_. She _hated _the amount of control he had over her.

"I've never seen you this angry, Miss Baker," Crane observed, now stepping uncomfortably close to her. "I like you better when you're _afraid._" He had a certain glint in his eyes that Layla had come to recognize - one that he often wore when he was losing himself in his malicious _alter ego_, Scarecrow.

She was suddenly terrified.

"Doctor Crane," she said carefully, her anger slowly depleting. "Maybe you should get some sleep... It's three in the morning..."

"Or perhaps you could _step into my office_," said Crane brightly, taking Layla by the hair and shoving her into his bedroom, "where we can talk about your _anger_." Crane pushed her onto the floor roughly, and Layla backed up while on her hands and knees.

"L-let me leave," Layla stuttered. She was panicking now - this wasn't Crane. Crane was cruel and apathetic in his own way, but this was _not _him. This was _Scarecrow._ "Doctor Crane, let me leave," she repeated, calmer this time. She decided that it would be in her best interest to sound as calm as possible, rather than fearful; fear would only further excite his vicious alter ago.

"Don't look so scared," said Crane tauntingly, reaching out to grab his scarecrow mask off his desk. He placed the sac over his face and then continued, "I'm not going to let you _die_." He lifted up his sleeves, revealing the miniature canisters connected to his wrists.

_"NO!" _Layla shouted. She gave Scarecrow a swift kick to the groin, and he fell over slightly, groaning in pain.

"You _bitch_," he hissed. Through his mask, Layla could tell he had on an expression of pure fury. Panicked, she got up as quickly as possible while Scarecrow was distracted, and bolted for the nearest room - Crane's personal bathroom. She slammed the door shut, locked it, and huddled in the corner by the toilet, shaking like a leaf.

Scarecrow appeared outside the door moments later, banging on it. Layla put her head in her hands and began to breathe in and out in an attempt to calm her anxiety, but it was a pointless gesture. She couldn't stop herself from obsessively checking the door to make sure it hadn't come off its hinges as Crane pushed himself up against it, trying to break it down.

Eventually, Scarecrow gave up and stopped his excessive pounding on the door. Instead, he simply stood beside it, and called in his gruff, disturbing Scarecrow voice, "I'll wait. You can't stay in there forever, _Red Riding Hood." _

XXX

GUYS REVIEW SERIOUSLY.

Please. C:


	17. AN 2

Hey guys. So I just wanted to tell you all that unfortunately school started for me today, so I can't update now as often as I was. :( And it's my first year of English AP so my workload is going to go up a lot. :/

Anyway, I'm gonna try and update tonight/tomorrow but if I disappear for a little at times don't think I abandoned the story or anything, I reaaaaallly love writing this story. (:

Oh and now would be a good time to leave any comments/opinions (like if you have a good idea or something)/etc., in a review because I'll have a longer amount of time to think about the future of the story and all~ yeah. C:


	18. Phase Of The Plan

Chapter 16

I do not own Batman Begins or any relating characters

XXX

Layla waited in the bathroom for hours, her back pressed against the door. She could see Scarecrow's feet through the crack underneath the door, and he often rattled the doorknob and banged on the outside, but otherwise, he did nothing else to attack her. All he really had to do was wait.

After five hours of hiding to protect herself from Crane's sudden outburst, light began to filter in through the tiny window in the bathroom. Layla could tell it was morning, and she was growing not only scared, but frustrated. For the first three hours of her hiding, she had constantly checked underneath the door to see if Scarecrow's feet were visible. She hadn't checked it hours, though - she figured it couldn't hurt to take another look.

Layla carefully got onto her hands and knees and took a peek into the other room. There didn't appear to be anyone outside the door. There were no shadows, no feet, nothing. But that still didn't really mean it was safe; after all, Scarecrow could have just been waiting in another part of the room. But she couldn't stay in the bathroom forever. If Crane was still out of his mind, she was going to have to figure out some way to get past him. But how...?

Layla scanned the bathroom quickly. There wasn't anything she could see that could cause Scarecrow significant harm if she had to. Her eyes continued to wander, stopping to hover over the shower. Layla stood up and ripped the shower poll off the wall, clutching it her hand defensively. It was made of metal, which meant it could do some kind of damage if needed.

She unlocked the bathroom door guardedly. Then very slowly, she opened it and stepped out into Crane's bedroom; he didn't appear to be anywhere in the room. This intrigued Layla - she had sincerely expected him to attack her from somewhere, otherwise she wouldn't have bothered with the shower poll. Where had he disappeared to?

Layla made her way through Crane's room without being gassed. Next, she headed toward the kitchen, entering with caution.

As soon as she stepped inside, she saw Crane (not Scarecrow) sitting at the kitchen table, casually looking through the paper. His appearance startled Layla and caused her to flinch, although he wasn't wearing his mask and it was nowhere in sight.

Crane took notice of Layla after she flinched, and looked toward her, smiling grimly. "Hello there, Miss Baker." He noticed the object in her hand, and began to laugh. "I don't remember asking you to take my shower apart."

Layla's eyes were as wide as saucers in a mixture of fury and shock.

"Hello there, Miss Baker?" she mimicked, sounding enraged.

"Are we on a first-name basis today?" He raised an eyebrow. "I could say Lay-_la_ instead."

"What the HELL, Crane!?" Layla shouted, coming toward him. "You lost your fucking MIND back there!"

"Actually, I knew exactly where my mind was." Crane paused to glance down at the paper. "You just got in the way."

"Of what?" said Layla angrily. "Your psychotic alter ego?"

"Maybe you shouldn't have gone through my files."

Layla couldn't believe what she was hearing. Crane had literally just attacked her and he was trying to twist it around so that, as always, it was _her_ fault. Not his. Although his sadistic alias had just taken full control over him and tried to gas her, it was still her fault. _Of course._

"You're mentally ill," said Layla seriously, not knowing what else to say or feel. She could only be so angry.

Crane got up out of his chair, took a few steps toward Layla, and stood over her, as though to intimidate her. "And _what_ exactly did you think you were getting yourself into when _you_ came and found _me_?" he said softly. His face was inches from hers, and she swallowed and stepped back.

Layla knew she couldn't argue with him. Even when she had first partnered up with him, she hadn't fully known what she was getting into. She didn't know how extreme Crane could become. She didn't want to know.

"I don't know," Layla admitted, biting her lip.

Crane smiled and leaned forward. "Then stop complaining," he said threateningly. "You want to take control of Gotham. I want to take control of Gotham. We make a good team." He reached out and placed one hand on her, brushing her red hair off her shoulder.

Layla inhaled sharply and recoiled. "Don't touch me," she snapped. There was a long silence before she continued, "Why did you stop? Why didn't you just break down the door and gas me?"

Crane kept his hand where it was on her shoulder. "Perhaps I decided it was better to take a walk instead." He paused. "Poison a stranger in the streets rather than my partner."

"You don't have any control," said Layla immediately. "You can't just decide not to hurt me."

"Maybe Scarecrow likes you, too," said Crane with a sly smile.

Layla didn't know how she was supposed to answer. Crane had spoken a number of times about having a certain fondness toward her, but she'd always assumed it had just been a sarcastic comment. She was just now beginning to realize that maybe he was serious.

"Why would Scarecrow like me?" asked Layla. Her throat suddenly felt dry. "I kicked him in the balls," she added with a nervous chuckle.

Crane looked amused. "For your fear, maybe." He finally took his hand off Layla's shoulder, and instead, reached into his pocket. He took out a tiny blue fear toxin pill and held it out to her. "I want you to take this."

"For the millionth fucking time I am _not_-"

"I didn't literally mean _you_," said Crane, with an air of exasperation. "This is 120 milligrams. Guaranteed to kill."

Layla took the pill and examined it. Although it was small, it appeared to be larger than most of the others. She glanced at Crane suspiciously. "Who is this for?"

"It's time to continue with the next phase of the plan, Miss Baker."

A sudden nauseous, unpleasant feeling appeared in Layla's gut. "Who is this for?" she repeated. Half of her was disturbingly excited to know, while the other, more desperate half wanted nothing more than for Crane to disappear right then.

Crane closed Layla's hand around the small pill and replied, "Bruce Wayne."

XXX

Told you guys I would update. C: Sorry this one was kind of short though~

Review please. (:


	19. Necessary

Chapter 17

I do not own Batman Begins or any relating characters

XXX

Layla's eyes grew very wide immediately. Crane wanted her to poison and murder _Bruce Wayne_. Batman. Her guardian. The man who had _rescued _her from poverty. She'd already tricked him, lied to him, and gone behind his back... all of which she was okay with doing. Hell, she didn't even mind murder. But _killing _Bruce? She couldn't do it. She absolutely _couldn't _do it.

Layla passed the pill back to Crane. "You do it."

"As much as I'd enjoy that," said Crane with a vicious smile, "you have the easiest access, Miss Baker. I'm going give you back to Mr. Wayne, and you drop it in his drink. It's a simple procedure." His eyes had that terrifying glint in them. "Just like Maroni," he reminded her.

"This... this is different," Layla stammered. The nauseous feeling in her chest from earlier had suddenly become much less easy to ignore. "Bruce... I mean... he... I wouldn't be alive without him." Layla was extremely aware that Crane wasn't exactly the most empathetic person to go to with her sob stories, but what else could she say? She could lie and tell him that she just didn't want to go back to the penthouse, but he'd see through her immediately. She was absolutely transparent to him.

"Feeling affection toward the Bat?" Crane teased. He grasped Layla's wrist roughly, and placed the small blue pill back into her hand. "You're with me now, Miss Baker."

"Crane, _please_." Layla bit her lip so hard that she drew blood. She was ashamed of herself for resorting to this - _begging. _Crane was obviously enjoying it, though. She was surprised he didn't explode from the _excitement _of it all.

"_Look_, Miss Baker," said Crane, more irritably now. He was still smiling, but not the type of smile that usually worked in Layla's favor. "You're worried about betraying the man who _saved you," - _he rolled his eyes to ceiling - "but the fact is, you've already betrayed him. He just doesn't know it's you." Crane reached to the side and took his copy of the _Gotham Times _off the kitchen table, and held it in front of Layla. "Now, how do you think Mr. Wayne would feel if your _pretty _face appeared in tomorrow's paper?" He raised his voice to mimic the tone of a news reporter. "_Masked criminal known as Red Riding Hood revealed to be Layla Baker, the daughterly figure of billionaire Bruce Wayne." _

Layla simply stared at him. Back at the masquerade party, Crane had had used the exact same threat against her - her true identity. For some reason though, this time, she was taking it _much _more seriously.

"You'd sell me out just like that?" she asked.

"Maybe not," said Crane tauntingly. "But are you really willing to _risk _it?"

_He's serious, just suck it up. Think of Bruce as Batman. Batman is dangerous to your operation._

Layla considered it, attempting to rationalize the situation. All she had to do was slip Bruce a pill. _Just one pill_. That was it. _She _wasn't even really killing him, it was Crane's idea, Crane's _plan_. She was just a figure. _It wasn't murder, it was just necessary to the operation._

"Okay," said Layla softly. "I'll do it." She closed her hand around the pill. "When are you taking me back to the penthouse?"

"Now," said Crane, grinning in a very pleased way. He left the room for a moment and returned, now with Layla's pretty red dress from the party draped over his shoulder. "Here," he said, tossing it to her, "you might want to put this on."

XXX

Crane arrived about a block outside Bruce's penthouse in his large white van, Layla waiting in the passengers seat. She was wearing her red dress with her Red Riding Hood belt underneath, which the fear toxin pill was currently tucked into. Crane stopped at the end of the block, pointed toward the door, and said, "I need you back soon."

"I know," mumbled Layla, saying nothing else. She had her head hanging to the floor, her eyes avoiding Crane's.

"Not as talkative as usual?" Crane taunted.

Layla shrugged. She kept mentally repeating to herself _it's not murder, it's just necessary to the operation_. The more she thought it, the more she seemed to believe it, no matter what her conscience said to her.

"I'm trying to convince myself that this is okay," she snapped.

"It _is_."

"To kill the man who saved me from _starving to death_?" hissed Layla, finally making eye contact with Crane.

Crane scrutinized her, his head tilted slightly to the side, then said with a grin, "Remember the plan, Miss Baker."

_It's not murder, it's just necessary to the operation._

Layla exhaled. "Okay," she answered.

She left the van, hearing only the sound of Crane's tires screeching behind her as he drove away. The penthouse was just up ahead. She walked slowly toward it, preparing her _act _for when she entered. She was thinking she would behave pretty much the same, aside from some slight paranoia and flinching whenever someone entered the room without her realizing. She couldn't act _too _damaged, or else she would over worry Bruce, which could end badly. But then again, she didn't want to act too _normal, _because then Bruce might suspect something. She was aiming for the middle ground.

Layla reached the front entrance and took the elevator upstairs, just as she had with Crane only a few short days earlier. Once she had come to the front door, she knocked loudly, and Alfred came to the door within moments. As soon as he saw her, his mouth fell open, and he said, "Miss Baker?"

Layla smiled slightly and answered, a bit shakily, "Hi, Alfred."

"Master Wayne!" Alfred called loudly. He ushered Layla inside and brought her to the kitchen, immediately preparing her a cup of tea. Bruce entered the kitchen minutes later, looking exhausted. As soon as he noticed Layla, however, his expression brightened considerably.

"Layla?" he asked with astonishment. Layla half-smiled, opening her mouth to speak, until she was caught in a bone-crushing hug from Bruce. She coughed when he squeezed her a bit too tightly.

"Bruce, my ribs," she said breathlessly. Bruce released her instantly and took a seat beside her. Layla had never seen him this happy before. She felt a familiar pang of something - guilt, maybe? - but extinguished the emotion quickly. _It's not murder, it's just necessary to the operation._

The following few hours consisted of Bruce asking Layla what had happened, in detail. He wanted Crane behind _bars_, he told her. His ecstatic reaction to her sudden return had quickly morphed into unyielding anger as Layla told him what had happened;

_Crane had crashed Bruce's masquerade party and recognized Layla, then poisoned her. He took her back to wherever and kept her hostage. He had decided against using her as a test subject for his toxin when she had revealed Bruce's secret alias, Batman. He'd kept her simply to use as a threat._

Bruce believed every word of it. Layla had never, _ever _seen him so angry before. In a way, it frightened her - she didn't know what to expect while he was this furious. But somehow, it also made her feel _empowered; _because of her _little white lie_, Bruce had become furious. _She _had made him furious. It gave her a sense of control. She was beginning to understand why Crane seemed to like it so much.

"Okay, I've heard enough," said Bruce. He was practically shaking with fury. "You need to rest...and we need to talk later." He paused momentarily, looking somewhat ashamed. Layla assumed he was referring to the Batman situation. "And I'm calling a therapist and psychiatrist in the morning-"

A ripple of exasperation crossed Layla's expression. "Bruce, I'm _fine_."

Bruce looked at her very seriously. "You need to talk about this, Layla. You were just held hostage by a raging psychopath."

Layla stood up, suddenly extremely angry. "Can we fucking talk about this later?"

Bruce observed her with a shocked expression. He was used to Layla's usual sarcasm, but not this unexpected anger. "See, you're already showing signs of-"

"Of _what_?" Layla demanded. "_'Emotional disturbance'? _I had my fair share of therapy back in foster care, thanks." She paused. "I'm fucking fine. I'm _excellent_, actually. It was really great, you know, being a hostage." _Put on a good show_. "Especially when Crane came here with a gun pressed against my head, and you didn't do _anything_." Layla was amazed at how much of a liar she had become. She liked this angle better than the slightly paranoid, damaged part she had been considering.

Bruce's stare dropped to the floor. "What did you expect me to do, Layla?"

"_Help _me."

XXX

Sorry for ending it at such an awkward part haha. I wrote this chapter in a hurry so I hope it made sense. Now I have to be up at six for school tomorrow soooo, goodnight~ Leave me reviews please. C:


	20. Ward B

Chapter 17

I do not own Batman Begins or any relating characters

XXX

As the week went on, Layla's moodiness increased considerably - the trouble was though, that _these _unusual mood swings weren't simply an act she was putting on. They were real; a bit too real for Layla's liking, actually. There were moments when she felt completely normal, but they were becoming less and less as time progressed. Now, she spent most of her time feeling very lousy - even suicidal at some points - utterly emotionless and numb, or extremely angry and resentful. She could never pinpoint exactly who or what her anger was directed at. Crane, Bruce... _herself_, perhaps? She could never decide, and she didn't like to spent a great deal of time thinking about it anyway. Personally, she liked it best when she felt numb.

Bruce had noticed Layla's changes as well and was progressively becoming more and more concerned. He hadn't yet made an attempt to confront her about the batman situation _because _of her moodiness. He never knew what to expect - most of the time though, Layla was either very angry or very distant toward him. She spent way too much time alone in her room, and when she did come out, she didn't speak much. The father-daughter bond that had grown between the two over the past year or so seemed to be withering more each day, and Bruce felt utterly helpless. Layla _clearly _needed professional help, but she refused to even talk to him, let alone accept any therapeutic services he offered to her.

By the end of the week, however, Bruce decided that if Layla didn't get help, she was just going to get sicker. She needed treatment, and if he had to admit her to a hospital against her will, then so be it. Of course, that wasn't going to be his first resort. So, the night of Layla's eighth day home, Bruce knocked on her bedroom door, readying himself to confront her. He was prepared for the worst.

"Layla," he called. He tried to sound as gentle as possible - after all, they hadn't even had a real _conversation _yet_. _

Layla responded with silence. Bruce knew she was in her room though, and he entered, despite her refusal to speak.

Inside, Layla was sprawled out across her bed, looking very distantly into the ceiling. Bruce could tell she was staring right through it.

"Layla," he repeated carefully, pulling a chair up to the edge of her bed.

"I didn't invite you in," murmured Layla, not taking her eyes off the ceiling. The still-unused pill Crane had given her only a week before was sitting in her pocket. It felt as heavy as a stone.

"It's nice to hear your voice," answered Bruce with a brief, bitter chuckle.

"Thanks," said Layla flatly.

Bruce cleared his throat before continuing, "I wanted to talk to you again about seeing a therapist."

Layla felt a surge of irritability and anger course through her. She sat up in her bed and looked at Bruce sharply. "I'm _fine_."

"Layla, you need help," said Bruce. He sounded stern, but also very concerned at the same time.

"I know you think I'm fucking traumatized or something-"

"What else would explain your behavior?" Bruce interrupted.

"_What _behavior?"

"_Layla_," said Bruce, sounding frustrated now, "half the time, you walk around like a zombie... The other half, you're furious and out of control."

Layla looked at him in disbelief. "I've been home a _week_," she snapped.

"A week is long enough for me to notice there's something wrong," said Bruce seriously.

Layla said nothing. Instead, she simply grabbed a pillow off the floor and tossed it over her face.

"Just get out," she shouted through the pillow.

Bruce could tell this wasn't going to end calmly, no matter what he did. So he just came out with it, like ripping off a band-aid.

"Layla, I want you to spend some time in a mental hospital."

Layla's stomach _dropped_. She removed the pillow from her face and threw it to the side.

_"What?"_

"Not for long," Bruce continued. "A couple weeks, tops. Arkham has developed a second ward for patients in your situation. They separate the criminally insane from the depres-"

"ARKHAM!?" Layla immediately fired up and jumped out of her bed. She could literally see red as she was screaming. Bruce wanted to send her to _Arkham? Bruce _did? This was completely unlike him, he knew how psychotic the patients at Arkham typically were... What was he _thinking_? "YOU WANT ME TO STAY AT **ARKHAM?**"

"A few months ago I wouldn't have," said Bruce. He remained calm, despite Layla's screaming. "I've talked to a number of psychiatrists since then though... They have a program there now to treat depressed patients. You don't have to be a serial killer to be admitted."

"ARE YOU FUCKING _JOKING-_"

"It's a _good_ program, Layla."

"AND HOW THE _HELL _DO YOU KNOW _THAT_?"

"Well," said Bruce with a smile, "I'm funding it."

Layla's mouth fell wide open. "YOU STARTED A PROGRAM AT ARKHAM _JUST _SO YOU COULD _SEND ME THERE_?"

"Layla, calm down. I've been funding it for a while, I just donated a sum of money that was a bit more generous this week-"

"I'm eighteen," said Layla suddenly, a smug smile creeping across her face. "I'm legal. You can't send me."

Bruce had an answer for this, too. "If I have to get a psychiatrist to declare you mentally unhealthy, I will. Then you'll be considered a danger to yourself and the decision will be up to me."

Layla gritted her teeth so hard, she thought they might just break out of her mouth.

"NOW _YOU'RE _THREATENING ME?" she screamed, firing back up. Bruce looked at her with a puzzled expression, and Layla realized instantly that she had been referring to Crane's constant threats, which he wouldn't understand.

"I don't want to do that though," said Bruce quickly. "Please just go. I promise you'll be home as soon as possible."

Layla stopped yelling, and this time, hissed through her teeth, "I don't really _have _a choice, _do I_?"

Bruce shrugged and stood up. "We're leaving now, I've already informed your case manager," he said simply, and when Layla's mouth fell open again, he added, "I couldn't risk you trying to run away, Layla. This is what's best for you."

Layla subtly felt her back pocket, where Crane's little blue pill was. For a split second, she considered ramming it down Bruce's fucking throat right there and then, but realized quickly that would be a foolish idea. Apparently Batman's death was going to have to wait.

Bruce held open Layla's bedroom door for her, gesturing into the hall. "C'mon, kiddo."

Layla robotically walked through the door, suddenly wishing more than anything that she was back with Crane.

XXX

Only a brief hour later, Bruce and Layla were pulling up to Arkham. The first thing Layla noticed - having not _actually _ever been there before - was the lengthy, spiked black gate that guarded the prison-like asylum. She knew immediately upon seeing that gate that she didn't belong here, enclosed in a building like an animal. However, then she thought about her partnership with Crane, and the dozens of people at the party she had aided in murdering... as well as Maroni and the bartender, both of whom had been murdered by _her _specifically...

Maybe she wasn't so different from everyone here.

Layla went through the admittance process in a haze, that numb feeling she had become accompanied to settling between her ribs. Bruce sat with her through her entire intake, which she had refused to even speak in, when suddenly a white band with the name LAYLA BAKER and a dozen small numbers printed underneath was strapped against her wrist; and just like that, Bruce kissed her on the forehead and left, promising to visit every Tuesday until she was discharged.

The nurse who had interviewed Layla for her intake led her down a dull white hallway, saying quickly, "I'm sorry you couldn't meet with a psychiatrist today, they don't come in on the weekends... You'll be staying in Ward B, and you'll have a roommate. Her name's Rachel, she's got a little _anger _problem, but other than that I'm sure you'll get along fine... You start at Level One here, and you can earn points each day to go up levels, and you'll get more privileges... longer phone calls, later bedtime, things like that..."

"Ward B," Layla repeated. "I'm staying in Ward B, you said?" she asked.

"Yes," answered the nurse.

"What about Ward A?"

The nurse stopped in front of a grey door, took out a key, and unlocked it before answering, "That's for the more, er, _unstable _patients. I'd advise you to steer clear of them. You won't see them most of the time anyway, except for maybe during mealtimes."

"And by '_unstable'_," Layla said with a tiny smirk, "you mean the serial killers, right?"

"I'm not allowed to discuss patient information with you," said the nurse uncomfortably.

"I think I'd rather be in Ward A." Layla paused, savoring the nurse's disturbed expression. "At least they'd put on a good show. Do you think I could talk to a _psychiatrist _about that?"

"You can talk to your psychiatrist about anything you think is necessary," said the nurse quickly, as though she wanted to get rid of Layla as soon as possible. "Anyway, it's room time-" "

"Is Ward A where Johnathan Crane stayed when he was here?" interrupted Layla. "You know, _before _he escaped," she snorted.

The nurse hesitated with her hand on the doorknob. A moment later, she opened the door for Layla slowly, and pointed inside, "It's room time for the next hour. Make yourself comfortable."

XXX

Reviews please? C:


	21. Kozol

Chapter 18

I do not own Batman Begins or any relating characters

XXX

The nurse closed and locked the ugly grey door as soon as Layla entered her room. It was a dumpy little place - there were two uncomfortable-looking beds, the same color as the door, and a tiny bathroom in the corner, which only contained a toilet shielded by a curtain for _privacy_. There were no windows to be seen.

"Oh, lookie here!" said a voice from across the room. A figure rose out of the covers in the other bed, only to reveal herself as a girl - she appeared to be about Layla's age - with extremely long, straggly blonde hair and a pair of piercing blue eyes. They reminded Layla of Crane's. "They _finally _trust me with a roommate again, hmm. Ya think they will after they see _these_?" said the girl - Layla assumed she was the "Rachel" the nurse had been referring to. She pointed down to her arm, where fat droplets of blood were trickling out of fresh, zig-zag cuts running from her wrist to her forearm.

Layla stayed calm, remembering what she'd learned in her short time at Stanford about dealing with patients who hurt themselves. "Why'd you do that to yourself?"

"I am an ar-_tist_," said Rachel giddily, leaving her bed and bowing in Layla's direction. "My body is my canvas. After all, they don't give us _crayons _in here." She began to laugh, a giggling, high-pitched squeal that Layla already knew was going to bother her. "So what's ya name, toots? I'm Rachel _LaBelle._" She said her last name as though she was singing it.

"Layla Baker," Layla replied, completely unfazed by Rachel's obvious insanity. It seemed the only person who had the ability to make her feel unsettled at this point was Crane, but _he _wasn't here. Right now, she just felt numb.

"_Theeee _Layla?" said Rachel, her eyes suddenly going really wide. "I've seen ya _alllllllllll _over the TV! Bruce Wayne's little prodigy, eh? Was it him who stuck you in this shithole?" she asked with a giggle. She did not wait for Layla to respond, but instead continued, "I heard ya were taken by Crane. I met him before... kept to himself at meals, mostly. _Kinda _a pompous jerk if ya ask me." Rachel paused to blow a lock of greasy hair out of her face. "Did he drive you _psycho _with his fear shit?"

"Not exactly," said Layla with a smirk. "I'd tell you what really happened, but then I'd have to kill you."

Rachel simply burst out laughing. "Is that a threat or a _pro-mise_?" she challenged, twirling in circles around the room. There was obviously something _seriously _off with this girl, but in a way, Layla kind of liked her. "I'ma good secret keeper, if ya wanna know the truth." Rachel winked.

"Maybe I'll tell you some other time," said Layla, immediately changing the subject. "You don't seem very angry to me," she commented.

"_Should _I be?" asked Rachel.

Layla shrugged. "That nurse told me you have anger issues."

"Oh, yeah, sure do," said Rachel with a roll of her eyes. "I'm just _happy _right now!" she squealed.

"Right," said Layla, taking a seat on her bed. She spotted a deck of cards nearby Rachel and pointed to them. "Do you know how to play bullshit?" she asked.

Rachel glanced in the direction Layla was pointing, and exclaimed, "Sure do! Swiped these goodies from the nurse's station, they don't pay attention to shit half the time."

XXX

When dinnertime rolled around, the same nurse from earlier came and escorted Rachel and Layla to the dining hall - which, as it turned out - was as white and as dull as every other _hall _in the entire building. It was over large, and there were dozens of unused and half-broken chairs scattered all over the place. Very irritable guards stood by every exit, and the _food _prepared for that evening looked like a mixture of overcooked kidney beans and some type of dry meat that looked similar to chicken. After the first taste, Layla decided quickly that she would be going to bed on an empty stomach.

Twenty minutes into dinner, there was a loud _CRASH _by the shitty salad bar, and Layla turned only to see Rachel screaming at the top of her lungs in the face some guy with far too many tattoos.

_"YOU FUCKER, YOU TOUCH MY ASS AGAIN AND I SWEAR I'LL SLASH YOUR FUCKING THROAT-"_

A number of staff gathered around her, yelling and grabbing her arms and legs. She had to be sedated before they could remove her from the cafeteria.

With Rachel gone, Layla was left sitting alone at the table, making her a prime target for other patients who spotted her and realized she was new. But then again, that's sort of what she wanted to happen; more _acquaintance _time with the other patients, especially those from Ward A.

Within minutes, just as Layla had predicted, she was joined at her empty table by a large man with a lot of muscle who had small cut marks written across his entire body. Layla assumed they were self-inflicted.

"Um, hello," she said guardedly. "What's your name...?"

"Victor Zsasz," answered the man. He had a low, growling voice that was quite intimidating. Layla thought his name sounded familiar, though.

She cleared her throat nervously. "Um, I'm Layla. Layla Baker."

"Layla Baker," said Victor slowly, as though relishing the taste of her name on his tongue. "You're _something _of a celebrity around here."

"My roommate told me that, um, she saw me on TV-"

"Bruce Wayne's little _princess_, kidnapped by the _scary _Doctor Crane."

"Right," said Layla flatly. "Hey, if you don't mind me asking..." she began, her eyes scanning Victor's deformed skin, "what's with all the marks...?"

_"Victor," _said a deep, unfamiliar voice. A white-haired man with dark brown eyes and a rather indifferent expression appeared at the end of their table, "You know that Ward A patients shouldn't be communicating with Ward B patients."

"Cut me some slack, _Doc_," answered Victor. "I was just giving her an introduction, she's _new_," he continued, with a sly smile.

"I'm aware, Mr. Zsasz, please return to your table," answered the man calmly.

Victor flipped him off before returning to his own table with the rest of the Ward A residents. The man then turned to Layla and remarked, "You sure do know how to make friends, Miss Baker."

Layla disregarded his comment. "Who are you?"

"I'm Doctor Kozol, your psychiatrist," he said, flashing a tiny smile.

"I thought psychiatrists didn't come in on weekends."

"Not usually," explained Kozol, "but Bruce Wayne gave me a call this afternoon and requested that I come in. He's very worried about you." In other words, Bruce's fucking _"donations" _were becoming identical to the word _"bribe._"

"That's nice," said Layla bitterly, "but I'd like to sign myself out now. I only came here to shut Bruce up, I'm _fine_."

"Well, you could sign yourself out right now if you'd like, but there's still a seventy-two hour period that you would have to stay here until you can be reevaluated," Kozol explained coolly.

"You've got to be kidding me," said Layla irritably.

Kozol shook his head. "I'm afraid not."

Layla glanced up when she heard the rumbling of feet from the other tables. The rest of the patients were being escorted back to their cells/rooms now, so she said, "I think it's time for me to go back to my room."

"It's all right, I'll escort you back myself," said Kozol. "Let's just talk for a bit. How have you been feeling, Miss Baker?"

Oh God, the _typical_ psychiatrists' line. "I've been fine."

"I heard you've had a particularly stressful last few weeks."

"Not really," Layla disagreed. "I mean, I'm _sure _Bruce told you all about my _terrible_ and _traumatic_ kidnapping, but whatever, I'm back. And I wasn't driven into insanity obviously, so being here is completely pointless. A waste of your time _and _mine, _Doctor_."

Kozol remained very calm. "I'm only here to help you, Miss Baker."

_Oh, shut the hell up_. "I'd like to sign myself out now. Three days isn't that long to wait, I guess." She drummed her fingers atop the table in exasperation, while Kozol simply observed her for a moment, before finally saying,

"All right, I'll arrange the paperwork and meet with you tomorrow morning, is that all right?"

"Actually, I'd prefer toni-"

"Excellent, Miss Baker, it was nice meeting you," interrupted Kozol, reaching out and grasping Layla's hand to shake it. He then left the cafeteria in a hurry, and a young male nurse came to take his place and escort her back to her room.

Layla could already tell her and this Kozol asshole weren't going to get along very well.

XXX

Review? :)


	22. Illumination

Chapter 19

XXX

It became apparent to Layla that Doctor Kozol didn't like to waste time, at least not when he was being paid handsomely by Bruce Wayne. Immediately the next morning, he summoned her into his office. He smiled upon her arrival and gestured to the seat in front of his desk.

"Sit down, Miss Baker. Make yourself comfortable."

Layla, who was feeling quite irritable and groggy because it was only seven in the morning, sat down and mumbled, "Any reason why I need to be here so fucking early? I don't even think the birds are awake yet."

"I wanted to meet with you as quickly as possible," said Kozol calmly, "you did want me to arrange the paperwork so that you could sign yourself out, didn't you?"

Layla nodded. "I want to leave as soon as possible." _I don't have time for this shit, I have a city to destroy_.

"We'll get to that," said Kozol. He picked up a pair of glasses off his desk and adjusted them to fit his face. "How was your evening?"

"Fine," said Layla shortly. "My roommate is psycho, but I like her."

"I'm glad you're getting along with your peers," remarked Kozol. He smiled faintly and continued, "How do you feel today?"

"Aggravated."

"Why is that?" Kozol prodded.

"Because I'm stuck in this nut house," answered Layla testily. She adjusted her position, tucking her legs up to her chin. "It's really unnecessary for me to be here."

"Mr. Wayne must have wanted you admitted for a reason. Can you tell me about the past few weeks?" said Kozol gently.

"I _guess_," said Layla in exasperation. She pondered the last couple weeks, knowing that she _obviously _couldn't tell this doctor what had really happened. "I came home from college in the beginning of December. Bruce threw a party a couple weeks later, Crane recognized who I was, and that's pretty much it."

"And then what happened?"

Layla shifted in her seat. "Nothing, really." She paused, inventing a valid excuse. "He took me for scare."

"Mhm," said Kozol, sounding as though he was only half-listening. "To intimate _you_?"

"No," said Layla, casting him an incredibly stupid glance, "to intimidate _Bruce_. He _is _the richest man in the city."

"Were you exposed to Crane's fear toxin at any point during your kidnapping?" questioned Kozol, completely disregarding her comment.

Layla pondered what she was going to say before answering. She was _going_ to tell Kozol the truth, but then she considered the possibility that admitting to being poisoned could somehow be traced back to her alias, Red Riding Hood, so she lied, "No. He didn't do anything to me."

"That's very peculiar," mumbled Kozol, scribbling something down on a clipboard. Layla couldn't tell whether or not he was speaking directly to her, so she said nothing. "Have you been having any unusual moods?"

Layla sighed under her breath. She knew that Bruce would've already filled him in on her erratic mood swings - the unexplainable anger, the numbness - so lying was absolutely pointless. "I've been angrier than usual, and numb sometimes," she admitted.

"Tell me more about the numbness."

"I feel robotic, like I have no emotions," said Layla flatly. She didn't really think much of the experiences she was having. She actually preferred the numb feeling, although it was somewhat uncomfortable - otherwise, she experienced significant amounts of anger or fear, which, in her opinion, were far worse.

"It sounds a bit like depersonalization," Kozol observed. "Are you familiar with that? Mr. Wayne told me you're three months into studying psychology at Standford."

"I guess he just told you _everything_," said Layla bitterly, making it clear that she _was not _happy with the amount of information Kozol already knew about her.

"He only wants what's best for you," said Kozol cautiously, quickly changing the topic. "What about your anger? Can you tell me more about that?"

"No," said Layla acidly.

There was a long, tension-filled silence that consisted of Layla gritting her teeth and Kozol scrutinizing her. Finally, Kozol gave a slight nod of his head and replied, "Well, I think we're done for right now then." He reached over to his desk, and held a small packet of papers in front of Layla. "I need you to sign your name here, here, and here please. In three days time I'll have you reevaluated, and you should be allowed to go home if it's decided that you're not a danger to yourself."

"Fantastic," said Layla coldly. She marked down her signature wherever Kozol told her to, then said, "I'm looking forward to the reevaluation."

"I understand," said Kozol with a nod, "but in the meantime, why don't you try to get the most out of being here? If you _are_ experiencing depersonalization, it can be helped."

"I don't mind the numbness, I just want to get the hell out of here," said Layla crisply, heading toward the exit. "I'll talk to you later, Doctor."

Layla was escorted back to her room by the same male nurse from the evening before. Upon entering the room, she noticed Rachel in the corner, carving marks into the wall behind her bed with the same razor she used to cut herself. Layla came over and knelt down beside her, causing her to flinch.

"_Jesus_, Layla," she snapped, examining the edge of her razor. "Don't give me a fucking heart attack."

"Why hasn't anyone noticed that you have a razor yet?" asked Layla, glancing at the many tally marks etched into the wall. "I mean, you have cuts all over your arms."

"Which is why I can't move up from level one," said Rachel, rolling her eyes crossly. "But they can never confiscate the razor, because I tape it to the inside of my bra. It's not like they're gonna grab my boobs."

"I guess not," agreed Layla, assessing the marks written into the wall. "What are the lines for, anyway?"

"How many days I've been here," replied Rachel, looking momentarily depressed. She recomposed herself quickly, however, and continued, "A year on Februrary first. These shitheads just won't let me leave." She stood up and collapsed onto her bed, sprawling out across it.

"One _year_?" asked Layla in disbelief.

"Yea, I mean, I keep cutting myself," said Rachel indifferently. "But even the people who improve are still stuck here for months. This isn't an asylum, it's a _prison_." She stared up at the ceiling hatefully, as though something she absolutely despised was above her. "I wish I knew how yer psycho doctor friend escaped. Crane, right?" she asked, glancing directly at Layla.

Layla seemed taken back by the question. "I never said he was my friend," she answered slowly.

"I'm _crazy_, not stupid," responded Rachel with a wink. "I can tell by the way ya talk about him, he _obviously _didn't traumatize ya or anything. Didja _fuck _him or something?"

Layla flinched as though she'd just been slapped, then sputtered, "I-no-_no_, I _didn't_." Rachel was still staring at her with a prominent smirk, however, so she went on, "We talked a lot. He told me about his fear toxin. About how much stronger it is now."

"When he was here," Rachel began, "he stayed to himself - when it came to the patients anyway. He bitched nonstop about his toxin shit, though. About how he hadn't tortured his patients, but did them a _favor_. Most people don't really know their truest fears, ya know? He talked a lot about that. I remember once, during lunch, a pysch came to talk to him, and he told them that he _ill-umin-ated _his victims. " She paused, as though reliving the memory. "I think even the doctors were scared shitless of him. The way he talked was weird, like he was looking right into your head." She rolled off her bed and onto the floor, then glanced up at Layla, who was looking deeply interested. "Ya know what I mean?"

"Yeah, actually," said Layla instantly.

"Oh yeah, and when he escaped," continued Rachel, who was now doing what looked like various yoga poses on the floor, "it was a fucking _zoo_ in here, they put us all in lockdown. They searched every single fucking corner of this place, but he got away." She heaved a sigh. "I wish I knew how he did it, I'd get the fuck out of here myself."

"Yeah," agreed Layla distantly. She'd almost forgotten that Crane had escaped from Arkham months previously - and if he could find his way out, what would stop him from finding his way back in?

She had a feeling she wouldn't be here very long.

XXX

Remember to review. :)


	23. Visiting Hours

Chapter 20

I do not own Batman Begins or any relating characters

Sorry for the wait guys! Enjoy. :)

XXX

The following two days went exceptionally slowly, especially considering Layla refused to participate in any type of therapy aside from her sessions with Doctor Kozol, which she was _forced _to attend. She spent most of her time lingering around her bedroom, sometimes playing cards or conversing with Rachel. Otherwise though, she kept quiet and to herself. And nobody bothered her, except for Kozol, who continued to prod and poke around her head, like it was his personal fucking mission to _cure _her; Layla suspected his enthusiasm simply had to do with Bruce's "donations". He didn't _really _care.

On the third morning of her stay in Arkham, Layla was escorted to another early meeting with Doctor Kozol. This time though, when she entered, Kozol looked very stern and suspicious, unlike their previous sessions, when he had appeared cool and curious. He pointed to the chair in front of his desk without saying a word, and Layla took a seat, her arms crossed in a rather irritable manner.

"Really, a session before breakfast?" she said, yawning obnoxiously. "What's the problem, Doc?"

Kozol looked at her very coldly. He turned to his desk momentarily, opened the side drawer, and took out a small blue pill. He held it in front of Layla's view so that she could see, and she recognized it as Crane's fear toxin pill. She had smuggled it into the asylum by taping it to the inside of her bra - they obviously couldn't search there - and the night before, she had hidden it inside her pillow case in her bedroom. It suddenly occurred to her that she was completely _stupid _for not realizing they would likely find it during room checks.

"Miss Baker, this pill was found inside your pillow case during last nights room check. This is _contraband_," he said seriously.

"Okay," said Layla shortly. She kept glancing back and forth between the pill and Kozol, knowing that having such a drug in her possession could be _seriously _dangerous for her. She was suddenly paranoid that they were going to somehow trace her identity back to Red Riding Hood, especially considering how _judgmentally _Kozol was currently looking at her.

"Miss Baker, I don't think you understand the seriousness of this situation," she Kozol darkly, "The _contents _of this pill have been analyzed."

_Fuck_. "Oh," said Layla. She knew there was no point in lying, so she added, "So I guess you know that it's 120 milligrams of death?" She paused to shrug. "_Basically_."

Kozol didn't seem to be in the mood for her sarcasm. "Where did you get this?"

"Crane gave it to me," answered Layla simply.

Kozol's eyes narrowed. "He _gave _it to you."

"Yep."

"Without forcing you to take it?"

"No, it wasn't for me."

Kozol leaned forward. He was scrutinizing Layla so closely that it was making her uneasy, but she covered it up. She'd become a _fantastic _actress in the last month or so. "Who was it for then, Miss Baker?"

Layla thought quickly. "I don't know. He just gave it to me. He said '_just in case you need it'._ I dunno."

Kozol didn't look like he was buying even a word of her explanation. "That's very unusual."

"Crane is a very unusual person," said Layla, leaning back in her chair. She was a bit amused now - she liked the reaction she was causing Kozol, the irritation that was blooming across his expression. He also seemed highly uncomfortable now, and she liked the idea of having the power to cause such an intense emotion.

"Miss Baker, I don't know how or why you aquired this pill, but it's _very _suspicious-"

"What are you, a cop?" interrupted Layla.

Kozol said nothing. He nodded suddenly toward Layla - wait, no, not _toward _her, but behind her - and two nurses entered his office. They stood behind her guardedly, and the amused-looking smile on her face suddenly fell like a stone.

"What's going on?" she demanded.

"We're going to move to a secure ward for the time being, Miss Baker, until we can investigate this situation further," said Kozol, sounding very straightforward.

Layla's eyes immediately widened. "Because I have a fucking _pill_?"

"Miss Baker, in the past month or so, I have acquired _dozens _of new patients. Over half of them had no previous history of mental illness - they were all driven into insanity. The exact contents inside this particular pill being the _source _of the insanity."

"I don't see what that has to do with me," Layla replied sharply. She felt her arms being gripped from behind, and she began to struggle. The two nurse's that had been called into the room held onto her tightly, not allowing her to even budge even an inch out of their grasp. "Doctor Kozol, I want to be discharged, _now_," she demanded.

Kozol did not respond to her, but instead gave a brief nod in the direction of the nurse's, who began to remove Layla from the room. She continued to struggle her hardest, but considering they were pretty large-bodied men, while she was rather small in comparison, it was a fruitless attempt.

"So let me get this straight," said Layla angrily as she was pulled away, "this is a mental asylum for the _criminally insane_, and you're having me _detained_?"

"You weren't admitted as a criminally insane patient, Miss Baker," said Kozol, casting her a _look_.

Layla immediately knew from his suggestive glance that she'd said the wrong thing, and in response - amazingly - she kept her mouth shut for once.

XXX

Layla was kept in a very confined space for the period of the next few days. Her new "room" was closer to a cell, and contained nothing but a small bed and a slot under the door to slip her meals through. After spending just a day in it, she was absolutely _depressed_, and wishing more than anything that she had poisoned Bruce when she had the chance. It was because of him that she was here, after all.

Then again, she recognized how stupid of her it was to smuggle in Crane's pill; here, it was basically useless, unless she had decided to poison Kozol at some point - _which _she had definitely considered. However, although it was an odd way to think, she had felt that, in a way, having Crane's toxin with her made her more _like _him - and in a place like this, he had the most perfect attitude. His apathetic, cynical mannerisms were suitable for manipulating the doctors here, which was how she had planned to get discharged. Until that stupid pill had caused everything to backfire.

_Speaking _of Crane, where the hell was he? She'd been here for nearly a week now, without any sign of him or any attempts to help her out. If they had been in opposite positions, Layla was sure she would have aided him in escaping as soon as possible...

_Oh, but wait, Crane doesn't care about you, dumbass_, reminded that fucking aggravating voice inside her head. It constantly came to inform her of the things she most wanted to forget, and she wished there was a switch that could simply shut it off. But no matter what she did, the fact remained that she _had, _unfortunately, developed a soft spot for a Crane; a fondness that he seemed to return, but not in a way that he "cared" about her. He seemed _intrigued _more than anything, and obviously at least somewhat attracted to her (considering that one night), but Layla was certain that he would stab her in the back if it would ever benefit him. And because of that, she knew she couldn't fully trust him, and that being concerned for his well-being in any way at all was pointless... And also very foolish on her part.

Layla continued to ponder this for a bit, wishing she could shut her mind off, but was interrupted when suddenly, for the first time since she'd been placed in her fucking _cell_, the door opened, and in came a security guard. There was also a nurse standing behind him, which Layla assumed was supposed to serve as some form of "back up" in case she tried to bolt out of the room. But she wasn't planning on it, mostly because she doubted she would make it anywhere near the exit before being sedated.

The security guard pointed out the doorway and instructed, "Follow me please, Miss Baker. You have a visitor tonight."


	24. Bullet Wound

Chapter 21

I do not own Batman Begins or any relating characters

Wooohooooo over twenty chapters now. C:

XXX

The visiting room in Arkham was quite small and boring, with four blank white walls surrounding a small desk and chair. Layla scowled when she was instructed to take a seat, displeased with the fact that she had been reduced to sitting in an empty room, guarded by the idiots they chose to employ in this dump. She decided that maybe she should start working on an escape plan herself, given the possibility that Crane could care less about her.

Layla _patiently _waited for a while, expecting her visitor to show up already. When it felt as though at least half an hour had passed, she turned to the security guard and snapped, "Where the _hell _is my visitor?"

The security guard simply grinned, a small "I-know-something-you-don't-know" type of smile that looked peculiar to Layla. His nonverbal expression told her something was definitely up, so she said, "What's going on here-"

Moments later, a screaming and sobbing Doctor Kozol was thrown into the room with her, falling to her feet with a _crash_. Out of surprise, Layla cringed and jumped out of her chair, backing away from the mess of a man below her. The only word she could make out was him whimpering "no" over and over again.

She knew instantly who possessed the ability to cause such a horrifying experience in a human being, so when a second person who was _not _currently deteriorating on the floor in front of her entered, she didn't even have to look up to know who it was.

"Way to make an entrance, Crane," she said with a smirk.

"You didn't think I was going to leave you here to rot in solitary confinement, did you?"

"Considering it's been almost a week..." Layla looked up. "I was getting a little worried."

"Sorry for the _inconvenience_," Crane replied, sitting down in the chair across from Layla. As she reclaimed her own seat, she noticed the armed men at the door, clutching two horror-struck security guards by their sleeves. Layla assumed the fully loaded guns pressed against their temples and the screaming doctor on the floor was inspiring their fear. She found this somewhat intriguing, because Kozol trembling on the ground amused _her_ more than anything, the annoying asshole. "How was your time at Arkham, Miss Baker?"

Layla immediately had a sense of déjà vu, remembering her very first encounter with Crane. She smiled faintly and replied, "Useless and disappointing."

Crane returned her smile. "Perhaps you should've poisoned Bruce Wayne when you had the chance."

Layla frowned. "I was really... _depressed_."

Crane looked amused. "Maybe you should see a psychiatrist."

Layla glanced down at floor where Kozol still lay, no longer screaming but still shaking uncontrollably. She then looked back at Crane, the smile returning to her face, "You got a gun?"

XXX

After Layla had successfully left Kozol surrounded in a puddle of his own blood with a bullet lodged into his head, Crane led her out of the visiting room. She hadn't yet figured where many of the dull white hallways led - especially since she'd spent a majority of her time lazing around her room - but due to the fact that Crane had _worked _in the hellish facility for so long, he knew the layout quite well. Layla found it interesting that it was likely he would've been _her_ doctor and a subject for experimentation, had he not been discovered and made a patient himself.

"My van is out back... I'm sure the police have been called by now though," Crane rambled, "but then again, this is a _hostage _situation."

Layla was confused. "A hostage situ-?"

Crane grabbed her by the neck before she could finish, putting her in a chokehold. Layla realized he meant for _her _to play hostage again, which she didn't exactly think would work this time. After all, _she _was now a suspect herself, if what Doctor Kozol told her had been accurate.

"Er, a little easy on the neck," she coughed through his grasp, "I don't think this is going to work-"

Crane completely ignored her and walked through the back door of the asylum. The _moment _he stepped out, just as he had predicted, there were dozens of police men waiting in the road for him, the multicolored lights on their cars shining obnoxiously. One of them spoke loudly to Crane, "Crane, put your gun down." Layla recognized the voice as lieutenant Jim Gordon.

"You think I'm going to make it that easy?" Crane replied lightly.

"Put the gun down _now_, or we'll be forced to shoot you."

"Really?" Crane challenged. He removed the gun from the side of Layla's head, and before she could wonder what he was doing, there was a piercing gunshot that seemed to _shatter_ the air around them. It took a moment for the searing pain to settle in, but as soon as it did, Layla looked down at her hand, which now had a gaping wound and was bleeding profusely. Her eyes widened in horror, and she admitted a scream that was so high-pitched that it hurt her throat.

"YOU FUCKING _ASSHOLE- _"

Crane disregarded her shouting. "I believe that _you _are the one who should be putting your gun down now, _lieutenant_."

Gordon seemed very conflicted. His gaze momentarily skipped back and forth between his own gun and Crane's smug face - as soon as Crane noticed his hesitation, he brought his weapon back to Layla's temple. In response, she began to _actually _struggle, fearful that Crane would be willing to shoot her in the head next, but he held onto her tightly.

Gordon instructed his men to set their weapons down, and began to negotiate with Crane. Layla did not hear much of the conversation - she was too distracted by the horrible pain in her hand - but before she could even tune-in properly, there was the sound of erratic gunshots coming from behind her and Crane. It appeared that the men he had recruited had open-fired on the crowd of police, and in the frenzy of panic and yelling, Crane made his getaway. The next thing she knew, Layla was being tossed into the back of Crane's large white van, surrounded by canisters of fear toxin. She clutched at her bleeding hand, groaning in pain under her breath.

"You _shot me in the fucking hand_, you _**asshole**_," she said angrily, her teeth and eyes clenched tightly. Crane made a noise that sounded like a chuckle from the front seat, which only further infuriated her. _"DO YOU THINK YOU'RE FUCKING FUNNY?!" _Layla demanded.

"I'll patch you up when we get back to the apartment, Miss Baker," he answered calmly. He was driving quite recklessly now, and whenever he turned a corner, Layla went smashing into the side of the van.

"DRIVE LIKE A NORMAL FUCKING PERSON, YOU FUCKING DICK-"

"Not appreciating the language very much, Miss Baker."

"_Fuck _you."

Crane said nothing, but instead began to drive even more recklessly than he already was. Layla sat in the back with her eyes shut, desperately trying to ease the pain in her hand. She realized quickly though that it wasn't going to go away until she found medical attention... but how on earth was she going to check herself into a _hospital _when she was supposed to be taken hostage?

She didn't have much time to ponder the thought, however, because soon enough, Crane had parked the van outside the apartment and opened the back, where Layla was. There were various patches of her blood on the carpet and smeared on the sides of the fear toxin canisters due to his negligent driving.

"Don't. Touch. Me," said Layla through her teeth when he reached for her. She reopened her eyes for the first time and gazed up at a very irritated-looking Doctor Crane.

"Do you want me to patch you up or not?"

"I didn't realize you were a _physical _doctor," Layla replied acidly, sounding strained.

"I'm the only doctor you've got," Crane pointed out with a smirk. Layla knew she couldn't argue, and because she didn't want to spend the remainder of the night bleeding to death, she allowed Crane to lead her into the apartment.

Inside looked exactly the same as it had two weeks ago, except for the various papers that were spread across the table in the kitchen. Layla wondered what they were, but did not inquire, mostly due to the bullet wound in her hand... but also partially because she knew there was a possibility that Crane would completely lose it and "become" Scarecrow again; and with her current injury, she would make a particularly _easy _target for fear toxin.

Crane took her by the hand and examined her wound, then nodded. "The bullet went through your hand."

"And that's a _good _thing?"

"Which means I don't have to _remove _the bullet," said Crane, glaring at her stupidly. "If you had half a brain you would know that-"

"Don't insult me, you just _shot _me," snapped Layla, still gritting her teeth in pain.

Crane noticed her exasperation and obvious discomfort, so he smiled in amusement. "You know, you shouldn't clench your jaw like that. It causes trauma to the teeth."

Layla looked at him piercingly. "You're so _smart _it makes me _sick_," she said sarcastically.

Crane responded with nothing but a smirk, and began to head in the direction of his room.

"Wait here, I'll fix you up in _no time, _Miss Baker."

XXX

Yay I really liked writing this chapter haha. :3

Review pleaseeee.


	25. Stitches and Kisses

Chapter 22

I do not own Batman Begins or any relating characters

XXX

"Ouch... _Ouch_. Crane, jesus _christ_." The needle he was using to patch up her bullet wound stuck in and out of her skin, _in and out, in and out_, and without any pain medication or anesthetic, it _hurt _like hell.

"I'm almost finished," said Crane, whose hands were coated in a layer of her blood. She hoped the tools he was using were sterile... she couldn't afford to get an infection. "There," he added, finishing up, "Good as new."

Layla glanced down at his finished work. There were a number of stitches imbedded into her skin, crisscrossing in a rather erratic and _obviously _unprofessional way. She bit her lip, praying to _God _that she didn't get blood poisoning or some other debilitating disease, and glanced at Crane. "Er, yeahhhh..." She attempted to flex her hand, but could not because of the pain, as well as the fear of ripping her stitches. She thought it unlikely that Crane would be bothered to fix them up if she did. "I need an antibiotic or something," she added.

"Why don't you just take some advil and hope for the best?"

"Well when I get some horrible infection, you can be responsible for driving me to the nearest hospital, then," retorted Layla irritably. Crane took a seat on the couch beside her, and flashed her his infamous "I'm-not-in-the-mood-right-now" glare. He seemed randomly distressed, or at least exhausted, and Layla wondered why. He hadn't put _that _much effort in to giving her stitches. "Um, are you okay...?" she asked. Naturally, she was still pissed with him for shooting her through the hand, but _honestly_, she was sort of used to that kind of thing by now. And besides, she knew better than to unleash her anger on him, especially while he was in this state.

"Perfectly fine," said Crane, his eyes on the floor. Layla lowered her gaze so that she could properly see his expression, and felt immediately unsettled when she recognized it. For lack of a better name, she mentally referred to it as the _Scarecrow look_, or maybe the pre-Scarecrow look, because it was the same expression he adopted whenever he was being "taken over" by his alter ego.

Layla wasn't sure how to react to this. Last time it had occurred, she had been attacked by Crane and nearly doused with fear toxin... But then again, it never occurred to her how _tortured _Crane must have been by Scarecrow. As corrupt as he himself was, having someone screaming inside your head all day long couldn't be a fun experience. She actually wished she could help.

"Is it Scarecrow?" said Layla cautiously.

Crane looked at her with an angry expression on his face. "Perhaps you should take a walk, Miss Baker."

"Or perhaps _you _should," Layla suggested, still unsure of what to do. Crane kept his gaze on her steady, then smiled calmly and raised his hand before slapping Layla _hard _across the side of the face.

Layla was utterly surprised. She grasped her cheek, which was now red and throbbing, and stared back at Crane, looking partially shocked, partially fearful. She stood up from the couch slowly. Crane's eyes did not leave her as she made her way to the door. "Right, so I'm gonna take a walk, like you said," she told him slowly. "I'll be back in an hour."

She made her way out of the apartment, relieved to be free of Crane's cruel gaze, and headed to the nearest convenience store, which she knew was down the street. She wished that she had a sweatshirt or umbrella, as it was raining and fairly freezing outside. She also thought having a hood would do some good in covering up her face, in case someone recognized her. She found that to be unlikely to happen here in the Narrows, though.

Layla hurried down the sidewalk, the rain whipping painfully against her already-throbbing cheek. And with the cold temperature, it felt more like ice was smacking her in the face, rather than simply water. It was a relief when she made it to the convenience store, her entire body soaking wet.

The man at the counter - a heavily tattooed, biker-gang-looking sort of guy - smiled when she entered. As low as she was feeling, Layla managed to return his grin. She retrieved a roll of medical tape (for her gunshot wound) from the back of the store, then came to the counter and said, "Newport 100's, please."

"You got ID on you, Miss?" questioned the man. He had a very low, gruff voice that sort of reminded Layla of Scarecrow's voice... minus the intimidation, of course.

"No," said Layla flatly. "I'm eighteen."

The man observed her for a moment, then grinned at her again. "I'll letcha go, you look of age." He reached underneath the counter and handed her a pack of her preferred cigarettes. "'Long with the medical tape, that'll be 7.30 total."

Layla winced when she retrieved a ten dollar bill out of her pants (she'd snagged it from Crane's pocket back at the hospital when he hadn't been paying attention) because of her hurting hand. The man noticed her pathetically stitched-up wound as soon as she placed the money on the counter, and said with an air of concern, "You all right there? What happened?"

Layla couldn't help but smile. It was nice having someone to care about her for once. There wasn't much of that nowadays, seeing as she spent all her time with Crane. "Dog bite," she lied. "A really _bitchy _dog."

"It looks a mess," said the man, frowning. "You want me to fix it up for you? I gots some experience with stitchin' up those kinds of things." He chuckled, as though he knew a secret joke that Layla didn't.

She considered it. She was fearful of infection, and ever since Crane's shitty stitches, her injury just seemed to be getting redder and more inflamed. "Would you?" she said gratefully. "I'd really appreciate it, I don't want it to get infected." She paused. "What's your name?"

"Name's Ron," he answered gruffly. "And sure thing, doll. I'm 'bout to get off work anyway. What's _your _name?"

"Kate," answered Layla smoothly. She couldn't risk revealing her true identity, not even just her first name. "It's nice to meet you."

"Same to you," Ron replied, ringing up her purchase. He handed her back her change and continued, "Well, that's it for my shift. Let's go in the back so I can fix that nasty-lookin' thing up."

XXX

About an hour later, Layla's wound had been properly disinfected and new stitches had been put in place. They looked _far _better than Crane's, and the swelling already seemed to be going down a bit. She flexed her hand, and noticed that it hurt considerably less.

"Wow, thanks!" Layla exclaimed, looking up at Ron's grinning face. "It feels better already."

"Any time," Ron replied kindly. "What's a pretty girl like yourself doin' around the Narrows anyways? It's dangerous down here."

Layla shrugged. _If only he knew_. "My friend and I live here... it's the only place he can afford."

"Your boyfriend?" Ron questioned, looking slightly disheartened.

Layla chuckled. "Not exactly."

"He the one who did your stitches?"

"Unfortunately," said Layla with a smirk.

"Tell him he oughta invest in some medical courses," said Ron, snickering.

Layla laughed at the pure irony of it all. "Yeah, I know," she agreed, glancing at the clock on the wall. "Shit, I have to get going though, my friend is expecting me back soon."

"You sure you can't stick around? We could grab a drink."

"I'd love to... but I can't," Layla replied. She reached for a pen on the counter top nearby, and took Ron's hand gently, scribbling down her cell phone number. She hadn't touched her phone in _ages_, but she figured now would be a good opportunity to start using it again. "Call me though, if you want," she told him.

Ron grinned like a little boy on Christmas morning. "'Course I will," he replied. "It was nice meetin' you, Kate. Hope your hand heals up okay."

"Thanks," said Layla, smiling suggestively before heading back out into the streets. The entire way back to Crane's apartment, the smile remained on her face. She hadn't felt so, well, _normal _in what seemed to be a long time. Her partnership with Crane was anything _but_ normal - it was deranged, it was cruel, and of course, it was very _abnormal_. It was nice to get a break for once.

Once she arrived back at the apartment, she hesitated before knocking on the door. What if Crane was still caught-up in his psychotic state of mind? She'd be walking right into a cloud of fear toxin, which wouldn't be good. But then again, she couldn't spend the entire night wandering around the streets of the Narrows, especially because it was starting to get late. So with extreme caution, she knocked timidly on the door. Within moments, Crane came to answer. From what she could see, he looked perfectly normal at the moment, which relieved her.

"Welcome back, Miss Baker," Crane greeted. He glanced down at her gunshot wound, noticed how much cleaner it appeared, and added, "Did you go to a hospital?"

"No," said Layla, entering the apartment. "I made a friend while I was out, and he fixed it up for me. He told me that you should invest in some medical courses."

Crane frowned slightly, shut the door behind him, and turned to Layla. "I wanted to apologize for earlier," he said, disregarding her previous comment about his need for medical training.

"You mean for slapping me?" said Layla, touching her cheek robotically. "It's fine. I mean, you didn't leave any damage... not like this." She held her injured hand in front of his face. "Maybe _that's _what you should be apologizing for."

Crane chuckled. "Don't push it, Miss Baker." He took a step toward her so that they were uncomfortably close to each other, and Layla cleared her throat.

"Uh, so yeah, it's fine," she repeated, toying with the ends of her hair anxiously.

"I want to make it up to you," said Crane, his eyebrows raised suggestively. Layla noticed that he was behaving in a manner that was eerily similar to the way he had that one night the Joker came to visit, which unnerved her a bit.

"That's not necessary, Doctor Crane," said Layla quickly. "Really, it's-"

Crane suddenly leaned forward and kissed her full on the mouth, catching Layla completely off-guard. Her thoughts were completely racing; what was she supposed to do? How should she react? How did Crane _want _her to react? And then, of course, there was the small part of her that couldn't stop thinking that Crane had really soft lips...

Crane pulled away, smirking at Layla's dumbstruck expression. She quite liked his smirk, although it usually meant trouble for her. "_Let me _make it up to you."

"I think you're just horny," said Layla breathlessly.

Crane chuckled. "I guess we'll see, _Layla_."

XXX

hehe reviewwws? :3


	26. Surprise

Chapter 23

I do not own _Batman Begins _or any relating characters

XXX

_Layla appears to be in a normal alley way, but there's nothing normal at all about how her surroundings feel. The air is hot and foggy, it's as though she's enveloped inside a blanket of cotton. The experience makes her feel as though she's suffocating, but it's nothing compared to the __**smell **__in the air. A grungy, rugged, nauseating scent of sweat and something else... something she can't quite put her finger on._

_She thinks she's going to puke._

_There are the sound of footsteps behind her, and Layla's heart falls into the acid in her stomach. The unidentified smell goes stronger, and a faded image begins to come together before her eyes. At first, the image is very fuzzy, and she can't make out a thing. But slowly, the picture comes together, and she realizes who is standing before her._

_**She **__is. She's looking into a mirror. Layla blinks, and the reflection mimics the action. She reaches to stroke her hair, as does the girl in the mirror. There's no doubt about, it's her. But she doesn't look right - the reflection looks too sad, too tired, her eyes sunken and her skin pale-blue. She's emaciated and shaking and she looks absolutely __**terrified**__. _

_Layla pulls her eyes away from the image, distracted. The sickening smell in the air is too strong now. Someone taps her on the back, and she freezes. Who it is isn't reflected in the mirror before her, but she recognizes the scent now. This is the smell of __**fear. **_

_Layla feels lips against her ear, warm and smiling. A chill runs down her spine. She knows these lips all too well. _

_The man finally speaks, his voice twisting her stomach tight like a vise._

_"Hey little girl, what's someone like you doing in a place like this?"_

_It's __**his **__voice._

_She screams so loud the mirror shatters._

_XXX_

Layla's eyes shot open. She was surrounded by darkness, and she suddenly remembered _why _it was that she was so afraid of the dark.

She reached to the edge of the bed in a panic, groping in the dark for a lamp or a light switch. Something fell against the floor and shattered, but she paid it no mind until she finally came across a source of light. She flicked on the nearest lamp and exhaled when its comforting glow spilled into the room. Relief instantly filled her stomach, her panic tapering off. _Thank God_.

"Nightmare," she muttered. She felt her pulse, which was beating erratically. It had all just been a horrifying dream - one she hadn't had since she first entered foster care, but it didn't matter now. It was over. "Just a nightmare," she breathed. A droplet fell on the blanket wrapped around her body; at first, she thought the roof was leaking or something. But it quickly became apparent that the roof was perfectly fine... the drop had come from her eyes. She was _crying_, and it _infuriated _her. It was just a stupid dream, nothing to be afraid of, nothing that should have any control over her. But still here she was, tears falling from her eyes like a fucking _waterfall_. Fucking scared little bitch. She felt like a _child_.

Layla wiped her eyes in a hurry. She shouldn't be crying. It was pathetic. And besides, she had better things to worry about. Like what had happened only a few hours ago, for instance.

She had slept with Crane.

...

...

_She had slept with Crane. _

...

..

Oh _God_.

"Are you feeling all right, Miss Baker?"

Layla's head snapped forward, her gaze following the direction of the voice. Crane's voice. It was coming from the bathroom.

He stepped out of the restroom, fully clothed. Unlike her.

Well, sort of. She had a long t-shirt on, but _still_. How awkward.

"You broke the glass," he said pointedly.

"Wha.. what?" said Layla, feeling a bit confused. She shook her head, and when Crane gestured to the floor, she looked down. _Oh_, the thing that had shattered. It was a glass of water. "Oh. Sorry. I was trying to-"

"Turn on the light," Crane interrupted. He was smirking. Layla suddenly didn't find it so attractive anymore. "You're afraid of the dark," he said. It wasn't a question, but an observation. He seemed so intrigued.

She didn't like it.

"I'm pretty sure I told you that already," said Layla, sounding a bit defensive.

"You told me you'd gotten over it."

"Our ancestors learned to be afraid of the dark because what lived inside of it attacked and killed them. It's hardwired. You can't get over it."

Crane raised an eyebrow.

"...or so I was taught, anyway," added Layla, suddenly self-conscious.

Crane chuckled and crawled into bed. It was then that Layla abruptly realized they were in _his _bed, and for some reason, that surprised her. "What else are you afraid of?" he inquired, looming over her uncomfortably. Layla stiffened when she felt him ghost his finger along her spine.

"You think I'm going to tell you that easily?" she murmured.

"Perhaps I'm underestimating you," Crane considered. He removed his finger from his spine, and instead leaned forward, pressing his mouth against her neck.

Layla shivered. "_Crane_," she said warningly, pulling the covers tight against her body.

"Doctor."

_"Doctor _Crane," Layla whined, recoiling away from him.

He stopped what he was doing and looked at her with a smile. "You weren't so _apprehensive _just a few hours ago."

Layla shook her head. "Maybe that was a mistake," she said quickly.

Crane clicked his tongue. "_Oh,_ what would Mr. Wayne think of you, _sleeping _with the infamous Scarecrow? " he said tauntingly.

Layla's cheeks felt hot. She wished she hadn't turned on the light; she probably looked like a tomato. "Definitely a mistake," she muttered.

"You have a tendency to repeat your mistakes," said Crane with suggestive grin. "Just an observation."

Layla gritted her teeth. Her jaw was beginning to feel sore from the pressure. "I'm not your patient, don't _observe_ me."

"Perhaps you should be. We could talk about your nightmares. What do you see in them?"

Layla froze. Had she been screaming in her sleep? "I wasn't having a nightmare."

"Please, Miss Baker, don't _insult _my intelligence," said Crane seriously. "What do you see in your nightmares?" he repeated.

"That's none of your business." Layla paused, a feeling of uneasiness growing in her stomach. "I want to go back to sleep."

"As soon as you tell me about your fears," said Crane with a grin. "I'm only _curious_."

"I'm going back to bed."

Crane rolled his eyes, looking a bit exasperated now. "Miss Baker," he said coolly, "you can tell me about your fears using your _words_, or you can be the test subject for my latest batch of toxin. Your violent hallucinations will tell me all I want to know."

Layla suddenly felt sick. "You're not allowed to poison me," she reminded him.

"You think I need your permission?"

She exhaled sharply. He wasn't bluffing, that much was obvious. And because she didn't want to risk experiencing the "violent hallucinations" Crane was referring to, she admitted, "I'm afraid of the dark."

"Tell me something I don't know."

"Being out of control."

"I'm sorry?"

Layla swallowed. "I'm afraid of being out of control. I think."

"You _think_," said Crane.

"I think. I don't really know what else to call it."

Crane hesitated for a moment, looking thoughtful, before standing up out of bed. He leaned over to pick up Layla's clothing off the floor and handed them to her. "Get changed, Miss Baker. I want to show you something."

Layla simply stared at Crane, seriously disliking the _anticipation _in his expression. "Show me what?"

He smiled. "It's a surprise."

XXX

Review please? :3


	27. The Big Bad Wolf

Chapter 24

I do not own _Batman Begins _or any relating characters

XXX

The site of the apparent surprise Crane had in store for Layla was located in a warehouse down the street from the apartment building, similar to the one they'd stayed in previously. Crane had ushered her out so quickly, she was still busy zipping up her pants when they arrived.

"This place looks like it's about to fall down," she observed, hesitant to enter. She wasn't exactly looking to get crushed by about a thousand pounds of rubble.

"It won't," Crane assured her, prying open the entrance. The hinges on the door creaked and squeaked questionably, and Layla looked at him in disbelief. "_Trust _me, Miss Baker."

"..All right," Layla agreed, stepping inside. Crane closed and secured the door behind her, before taking her by the arm and leading her through a series of damp hallways. Eventually they arrived at a large grey door, locked from the outside. Crane reached into his pocket to retrieve the key.

"Why is it locked?" Layla questioned.

"You'll see," answered Crane simply, before unlocking the door. The both of them stepped inside, Layla much more warily than Crane.

The first thing she noticed upon entering was the _screaming _and the _whimpering _and the _begging _coming from below them. They were currently located atop something of a balcony, and below them, there was a large room separated into two parts; one area that was filled with various devices, pill bottles, and very large pots of a simmering liquid that _really _didn't look like it was something you'd want to spill on yourself.

The other half of the room - divided by nothing but a giant red curtain - was the source of the screaming Layla had heard upon entering. There were _dozens _of people below, some of them secured to chairs and crying, others wearing protective masks and gassing those with their hands tied.

"What-" said Layla, before she was interrupted by a particularly high-pitched scream, "...what's going on here? What is this?"

Crane was looking down at the scene with absolute relish. "Where I make my medicine, as well as where I test it."

"Who are these people?"

"Hostages. Workers," Crane explained. "It depends on who you're referring to."

"..._where _did you get these people?" said Layla cautiously. She held her breath, expecting that she wouldn't like the answer.

"The Joker," said Crane with a smile, "he told me he worked alone, but I was able to talk him out of that while you were still in Arkham. How do think I found out you were there in the first place?"

"The news... I mean, I figured... I'm close to Bruce... I thought the news would talk all about my-"

"Oh, _please_," said Crane in exasperation, "as if Bruce Wayne would allow the public to know that his _precious _little _'daughter' _had been _hospitalized_. That wouldn't look very good for his public image, would it?"

"I... suppose not," Layla agreed, feeling dejected. Was she _really _less important to Bruce than his public appeal, or was this just another mind game Crane was trying to play?

And more importantly, why did she _care _so much?

"Your toxin works perfectly though," Layla continued, frowning; she knew from experience just _how _well it worked. "Why keep testing it on different people?"

"Each individual has different fears, Miss Baker. Once you tap into those fears, you have the ultimate weapon for manipulation."

"I'm not following..."

"Of course not," said Crane, with his all-too-familiar smirk and insult against her intelligence. "My test subjects become my _workers_."

Something inside Layla's head seemed to click. "So you're controlling them through fear. You're collecting, erm... _followers_... through fear."

"Precisely." Crane smiled.

"But... you told me your toxin causes permanent insanity." Layla paused. "Mental illness..."

"Your point being?"

"You're causing mental illness." It wasn't a question, but a statement.

_"Your point being?" _Crane repeated.

Layla swallowed. Her hands were beginning to tremble. _Why _were her hands beginning to tremble? "This... is... corrupt."

"Corrupt," Crane breathed. "_Pardon _me, Miss Baker, I didn't realize you'd be so _offended _by my work," he said acidly.

"This is wrong, Crane," said Layla, trying with all her might not to allow her voice to shake like her hands. "You're making these people sick."

"A small price to pay for control of Gotham," said Crane piercingly, taking Layla by the arm. His fingers dug into her skin as he continued, "That _is _what you wanted, isn't it, Miss Baker? What you came to _me_ for?"

"I... these people have families."

Crane's grip tightened. "What about Salvatore Maroni, the bartender, Doctor Kozol? Did _they _not all have families?"

Layla's eyes dropped to the floor. The three men she had murdered in cold blood. _Of course _he would bring that up.

But then again, how could he _not_?

"They were just three people," Layla answered, at a weak attempt to defend her argument. "There are _dozens _here." She glanced up at Crane, whose expression was unreadable. Terrified by whatever emotion lay underneath his blank mask, she added in a hurry, "I mean, it's just my opinion..."

"There are hundreds of workers, actually," Crane corrected. He still hadn't released her arm, despite the fact that she was now fidgeting. "Others are out doing jobs _you _were previously very useful for... until you developed these _opinions _of yours."

Layla was feeling very sick to her stomach now, not liking at all where this conversation was headed. "I do have a mind of my own, Doctor Crane," she muttered. His grasp on her arm was starting to hurt now.

"Not when you're working for me, you don't."

"I was under the impression that we were in a partnership..." Lie. She'd known since the very beginning that Crane was in control. He called the shots, he made the decisions. He made _her _decisions. She'd just hoped that, over time perhaps, they would eventually hold equal positions... But no.

She was Red Riding Hood, he was the Big Bad Wolf. It all made sense.

She was nothing but a _stupid_ little girl.

"You really have no idea what you've gotten yourself into, do you?" said Crane, his lips curling into an amused, malicious sort of grin.

Layla's heart was _hammering_. "Let go of my arm, Doctor Crane," she said fearfully.

Surprisingly, Crane did as he was told, releasing his grip instantly. He then reached for his glasses, removed them from his face, and tucked them into his back pocket.

"I have a question for you, Miss Baker."

Layla kept quiet. She felt paralyzed.

"Would you like to see my mask?"

In that instant, Layla suddenly remembered what the actual _purpose _the emotion of fear served. It was a defense mechanism, hardwired into the human species to protect them from danger. She now had only two options: get the fuck out of there or protect herself. _Fight or flight._

She ran.

XXX

I have to apologize to you guys for making such short chapters. That's just how I write them. But I hope that my frequent updates make up for it.

Anyway, review please! :3 I think this was one of my favorite chapters so far. I suppose it's something of a turning point.


	28. Wasteland

Chapter 25

I do not own _Batman Begins _or any relating characters

I'm going to use music lyrics to introduce this chapter. I don't usually do that but I felt this song in particular related very well to Layla's character. Enjoy! :3

XXX

_"This is a wasteland, my only retreat. With heaven above you, there's hell over me."_

_- Pierce the Veil, Hell Above_

XXX

The moment Layla retreated out the doorway of Crane's little anti-asylum, it dawned on her that she had _no _idea how to make her way toward the actual exit. She had no sense of direction, no light, only pure adrenaline was pushing her forward. She had a choice to make - right or left.

Multiple sets of footsteps were growing nearer from behind her. She recognized Crane's voice - no, _Scarecrow's _- but it was obvious he had brought along some of his _henchmen _with him...

"She doesn't have any idea how to navigate this place. You two take the left, you come with me. Don't let her escape, she knows too much."

Layla shivered. The sheer enthusiasm in his voice made her heart jump into her throat; he was just so _eager _to poison her.

Nearer and nearer the footsteps came, so Layla made the split-second decision to take the left hallway. It was pitch-black and narrow; she had never really been the type to become uncomfortable in tight spaces, but she felt as though she was going to suffocate.

The hallway opened up into a large boiler room. Layla immediately got a sort of skeptical _Freddy Krueger _feeling for the place, which was kind of appropriate anyway. Maybe Crane wasn't coming at her with a set of claws, but he was _certainly _coming at her with something equally as terrifying, if not more.

The footsteps were getting closer, and Layla could not see any other exit out of the boiler room - _obviously_, she couldn't go back the way to came, so she did the most reasonable thing she could think of. She hid.

She ducked behind the boiler furthest from the doorway, her knees pressed up against her chest. She covered her mouth with her hand in order to silence any accidental screams or noises, but a small squeal of terror still managed to escape when she realized _she was not alone back here_.

Someone was huddled in the corner, just a few feet away from her, muttering incoherently to themselves. It was hard to see what they looked like due to the nearly pitch-black environment, but Layla was pretty certain it was a female, considering the long, straggly hair.

"Who are you?" she whispered, as quietly as she could muster.

"L-Layla?" replied a tiny, terrified voice.

Layla recognized the voice, although she used to it being loud and obnoxious, rather than small and afraid. Her roommate from Arkham. _"Rachel?" _she said incredulously.

"_Shhh_, don't let him hear you, _please_!" replied Rachel in a panic. She gazed around erratically, as though expecting someone arise from the walls and grab her.

"He?" asked Layla softly. "Who's he?" she said, although she was pretty sure she already knew.

"_Scarecrow_," Rachel whimpered. "H-he told me he would g-get me out of that _f-fucking _asylum if I-I would just come and-" she inhaled a deep breath- "_work _for h-him. I-I'm losing my mind. I feel things c-crawling on me, I-I can't even t-trust myself anymore, I'm so... s-_scared_."

"It's not real, Rachel," Layla whispered. She reached her hand out to her previous roommate as a potential comfort, but Rachel simply recoiled and shooed her away.

"No, it's _too _real," she cried.

The two of them sat in silence for a few moments, Layla unsure of what to say as Rachel sobbed into her sleeve. The silence was interrupted, however, when a malevolent voice chimed in, "Come out, _Little Red Riding Hood_. I know you're _afraid _of the dark."

Rachel's head shot up, and she looked to Layla with an expression of pure hatred and rage. "You led him her. _You _led him _here? _I just got away from him, you fucking _BITCH_!" she roared.

"Rachel, be quiet, please-"

The back of Layla's hair was suddenly gripped in a choke hold as she was ripped up from the floor. A cocked and loaded gun was pressed against her temple, the feeling of the cool metal tip causing chills to go up and down her spine.

"Don't kill her," said Scarecrow. He stepped close enough so that Layla could see him, even in the dim lighting. His henchman tightened his hold on her hair, and she gritted her teeth and began to struggle. "Take the blonde back for experimentation. I want the red-head for myself." He waved his hand at Layla, and the worker nodded, threw her against the ground, and focused his attention on a sobbing and begging Rachel.

Layla's hands were shaking once more as she lay at Scarecrow's feet, gazing up at the burlap-clad face that was _oh-so-much-more _terrifying than it had been when she'd been on his side. She tightened her hands into fists to stop the trembling. "Get _away _from me."

"I haven't even _done_ anything yet," said Scarecrow in amusement.

"You used me," said Layla bitterly, biting her lip. "I was just a fucking _pawn_."

"You came to _me_," growled Scarecrow, "perhaps next time you should stop to _consider _what you're doing before you start _fucking _around with _scary_ people." He gave a swift kick to Layla's face, and she heard the distinctive sound of a sharp _crack_ before blood began to pour out of her nose. "Bruce Wayne's little _prodigy_. You made this all so... much... _easier_."

Layla pressed the back of her hand against her throbbing nose. "Bruce will stop you. Look at you, you're nothing without your stupid _mask_."

"Neither are you," snapped Scarecrow. "You are an ignorant, self-centered _little girl_ who's gotten in _way _over her head."

"Is that your diagnosis, _Doctor_?"

Scarecrow leaned in close to her, releasing a cloud of toxin directly in front of her face. Layla held her breath, attempting not to take in any of the substance, but to no avail. The effects were instantaneous - the sudden knotted feeling her stomach, the pure panic buzzing around inside her head, the absolute _fear_; she hadn't the slightest idea how she was going to escape this situation without losing her mind first.

Layla glanced around the room hysterically. There seemed to be bugs of every kind, _crawling _all over the entire place, crawling all over _her_. She rolled over on the floor in order to brush them off of her, but this just seemed to agitate them, as they then began to bury themselves _inside _of her skin. She screamed and looked up at Scarecrow; his mask tore itself in half, and underneath was not Crane's face, but instead the man she was _truly _most terrified of. Her _rapist_.

"You don't look so good," Scarecrow taunted. His voice was far gone beyond its normal tone - it was now low and sinister, more of a growling than anything. Layla stared up at him in horror, her gaze fixated on his mask.

_**Hey little girl, what's someone like you doing in a place like this?**_

"You're not real," Layla whispered.

_**Didn't your parents tell you not to go wandering around the Narrows?**_

"_YOU'RE NOT REAL!" _she screamed, and with a panic-induced kick, she nailed Scarecrow in the groin so hard that he fell onto his knees.

"_Bitch_," hissed Scarecrow. He grasped Layla by the neck, yanking her up off the floor. She began to scream at the top of her lungs and flail about as much as he would allow, until he slammed her head against the side of the nearest boiler, shutting her up in the process.

"You're really starting to _irritate _me," Scarecrow told her, bashing her skull against the edge of the boiler a second time. "If you weren't so amusing, I'd _kill _you _right here_." He continued to collide her head with the side of the boiler until she was drifting in and out of consciousness.

Layla reached up to graze her fingers against skull. They were covered in blood.

"You're so afraid, aren't you?"

It only took one more hit before she slipped completely into the dark.

XXX

Review please. :3

Oh and I just had a question out of curiosity: if you had to choose between facing Scarecrow, Bane, or the Joker, who would you choose? My friend asked this the other day and it was actually difficult coming up with an answer haha. I chose Bane in the end though, I figured he'd probably kill the quickest.


	29. Unmasked

Chapter 29

Sorry for the long wait guys! I'm just been busy recently. Enjoy the chapter! :3

XXX

There was the sound of shouting and muttering in the area surrounding Layla. Her eyes opened to a squint. She saw flashes of white and unfamiliar faces. Everything was disoriented and vague. The back of her head ached and throbbed angrily. Her stomach gave a lurch, and suddenly she was bathing in her own vomit.

"Crane... where's... Cra... Scarecrow...?"

There was a cushion against the back of Layla's head. She lifted up her neck, but someone pushed her back down.

Something stung a vein in her wrist - the prick of a needle, perhaps? - and it was dark once again.

XXX

"Miss Baker, do you know where you are?"

Layla looked around. She had expected herself to wake up attached to a chair, subject to Crane's cruel experiments. He probably had something special for her in mind. He'd probably use his strongest batch of toxin to destroy the monster he had mentored.

But this place was most certainly not Crane's anti-asylum.

"A hospital," said Layla. Her voice sounded off to her, laced with anxiety and insecurity. "Am I in a mental hospital...?"

A middle-aged man with dark hair and kind brown eyes, dressed quite professionally, offered her a smile. "No, this is a regular hospital, but I_ am_ a psychiatrist. My name is Doctor Wilson."

"It's nice to meet you," said Layla cautiously. She was sitting in a hospital bed, draped in a mint green gown. There was a plastic band attached to her wrist that was labeled with her name, the number 2475869 and the words _Gotham General_. "How did I get here?"

Wilson examined her for a moment, the kind smile on his face unwavering. Although she had just met him, his expression gave Layla a sense of ease. "What's the last thing you remember, Miss Baker?"

"Layla, just call me Layla."

"All right, Layla. What's the last thing you remember?"

Layla thought back, gouging through her memory. Although it was a bit fuzzy, she could recall what had happened. "Doctor Crane. He was chasing me. He attacked me and hit my head against the side of a boiler and then-"

"And then the police were called. Someone outside the warehouse heard the commotion and contacted them."

"What happened to Crane?"

Wilson frowned. "He got away, but the police are pursuing him."

Layla felt as though something were suddenly gripping her intestines in a vise, twisting them in knots. "He's not finished with me, Doctor."

"What do you mean?"

"He's not _finished_ with me."

"Do you mean to say... you're afraid he's going to come after you?"

"He _will_ come after me."

Doctor Wilson's frown remained on his face. Layla was right, of course. But nevertheless, he offered words of comfort. "You're under the protection of the police now, Layla. And you're in this hospital. Crane isn't exactly just going to walk in."

"You don't know him like I do," said Layla darkly. "He'll find a way."

There was an awful minute of silence following Layla's bitter reply, before Doctor Wilson cleared his throat and remarked, "I've put you on 150 milligrams of Seroquel."

Layla raised an eyebrow. "An anti-psychotic?"

"To combat any possible side effects of Crane's toxin... You were under its influence for quite a while, before he finally gave you the antidote."

"_Crane_ gave me the antidote?"

"If he hadn't, I doubt we'd be having this conversation right now," said Wilson seriously.

Layla was confused. Crane had been given the opportunity to literally_ frighten_ her to death, and he'd saved her. Was it because he simply wanted more time to screw around with her mind? Or did it mean something else entirely...?

"Now, Layla, someone else besides myself wants to meet with you. Are you familiar with Jim Gordon?"

"Lieutenant Gordon? Yeah, Bruce has mentioned him a few times..." Layla paused, pondering Bruce's whereabouts. Shouldn't he have been the first to visit her? "Where is Bruce, anyway?"

"Unfortunately, Mr. Wayne is away on business at the moment, but he assured us that he would come to see you as soon as possible," said a voice from the door. Jim Gordon's voice. Layla glanced over Doctor Wilson's shoulder, and noticed him entering the room.

"Hello," said Layla with unintentional rudeness. That same vise-like feeling from earlier was now in the pit of her stomach again, squeezing her intestines dry. Gordon wanting to meet with her couldn't be for any _good_ reason.

"Hello, Miss Baker, I need to speak with you," Gordon greeted. "Doctor Wilson, do you mind stepping out?"

"Of course. I'll get Layla's medication while you're talking," he stated before exiting the room. As soon as he was gone, Gordon took a seat on the edge of Layla's bed.

"How are you feeling, Miss Baker?"

"Better," replied Layla. She suddenly remembered the damage that Crane had inflicted upon her skull, and reached her fingertips up to brush against the wound. Instead of blood, there were stitches now.

"That was quite a nasty cut. Twenty stitches," Gordon commented.

Layla wasn't exactly in the mood for small talk. "What do you need to talk to me about, Lieutenant?" she questioned.

Gordon sighed. He obviously wasn't looking forward to whatever he was about to say. "You're a suspect in the search for Red Riding Hood, Miss Baker."

The tightness in Layla's stomach became more prominent. She looked at Gordon irritably. "I'm aware. My psychiatrist at Arkham informed me."

"Doctor Kozol," said Gordon with a nod. "Do you know that he's dead?" he added with an air of suspicion.

"I know, it was Doctor Crane who killed him," replied Layla, a bit too quickly.

"Miss Baker," said Gordon carefully, looking as though he didn't believe her, "if you do have anything to do with Red Riding Hood, a confession will certainly help you. If not, and it's discovered that you were associated with her in any way at all... well, you could be put on trial for murder."

_Murder._ The word alone caused a chill to go up Layla's spine. She had_ murdered_ three people, and aided in the killing of several others. "Murder?" she asked, a knot in her throat.

"Yes," said Gordon simply.

Layla's eyes suddenly filled with tears, blurring her vision. As hard as she tried, she could not hold them back; they spilled over onto her cheeks. "I didn't mean for it to get this bad," she whispered. Lie. Lie. _Lie._ That's all she was truly useful for - being a manipulative liar. She had intended from the start for it to get this bad, if not worse. It was fear alone that had caused her plans to fall apart halfway through.

Gordon looked Layla directly in the eyes. He had on a stern yet sympathetic expression. "Are you Red Riding Hood, Miss Baker?" he asked seriously.

"Yes," Layla admitted, "but... but, it was Crane. He made me. He _made me_ kill those people." She paused to wipe her face. "He made this monster."

"He forced you to murder?"

"Yes," sobbed Layla, "he held me hostage, tortured me with his toxin. He told me he would kill me if I didn't."

"You put on quite a mask, Miss Baker..." said Gordon slowly.

"I-I'm not a bad person," Layla continued frantically. "You don't understand how _afraid_ I was."

Gordon sighed again. He seemed to be at least taking what she was telling him into consideration - he seemed to have some sort of _compassion_. Layla almost felt bad that it was all for a lie that she was inventing. Almost.

"You'll need to tell your lawyer all of this when you're brought into court. If the judge is feeling sympathetic, it's likely you could be ordered a shorter sentence," Gordon explained, in an attempt to comfort Layla, who was trembling and crying on the bed.

"Are you sure?"

"Well, I can't make any promises," said Gordon cautiously.

"You don't know what he's like," said Layla, looking at Gordon with wide eyes. "He got inside my head."

"I understand," said Gordon simply, heading toward the door. "I'll speak to you tomorrow though, Miss Baker. Get some rest for now."

Layla wished Gordon a good night, and sighed in some sort of twisted relief when he was gone. If all of this court bullshit carried through before she had a chance to get herself out of it, at least there was the possibility that her sentence would be reduced. Or perhaps she would be sent back to Arkham, where she was confident in her abilities to manipulate the system.

After all, she was the only one who really knew the truth about this whole situation.

Well, her and Crane...

...

_Shit._

XXX

Review please. :)


	30. Reinvent

Sorry about the long wait guys! I've been so busy recently. I've also started another Crane fic, if you're interested at all.

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Batman Begins or any related characters.

XXX

_Layla's standing at the front of a long, eerie corridor. There are no lights illuminating the darkness before her, but something she's unable to ignore is pushing her to go forward, so she obeys. She takes short steps, gradual and cautious, before making her way down the hall and arriving at a bolted metal door. _

_"I need a key," she mutters to herself. She rummages through her pockets, thinking that her efforts are pointless. She doesn't remember picking up a key at any point. But nevertheless, when she searches in her last pocket, she feels it. A bulky, rusted iron key. She carefully moves it toward the door, unlocking it slowly. _

_Inside, there is not a room, but a mirror. Layla huffs. Why do mirrors have such a habit of following her everywhere? She moves her hand forward and touches it lightly, feeling the cool glass beneath her fingertips. As always, the girl reflected back at her appears emaciated and tortured; her eyes are full of so much pain that Layla winces. The girl is her, but not really. This isn't what she looks like, is it?_

_A sudden coolness fills the corridor, whipping against Layla's bare arms and neck. She shivers and wraps her arms around herself. But what follows the cold is much more frightening - a scent that she is far too familiar with. Fear._

_Her heart rate picks up in an instant. It's the man again, isn't it? Her rapist. She whips around quickly in a frantic effort to confront her attacker, but for once, he is not standing there._

_Crane is._

XXX

"Layla, Layla! Are you all right?" She felt someone's hand grasping her shoulder and shaking as hard as they could. Her eyes finally opened, and in front of her stood someone she was unfamiliar with. She figured it was one of the nurses.

"Yeah, I'm fine," grumbled Layla, glancing at the clock above the door. 3:34 AM.

"You were thrashing around in your sleep," said the nurse with concern. "And your heart rate shot up quite a bit. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Well, thank you, I'm fine though," Layla said robotically.

_Really, you think you're fine, what with Crane coming after you? _That fucking voice is back to scorch her with the fucking truth. Fuck.

"Are you sure? I could get you something. A glass of water, some food?" urged the nurse.

"No, that's all right." _What makes you think these idiots can protect you? Crane's going to hunt you down and tear your mind to shreds._

"Were you having a nightmare?"

"Yes, just a nightmare," Layla replied irritably.

_He'll fucking kill you._

"Well, okay. I'm just a button away if you need me," said the nurse, finally resigning in her effort to comfort her. She began to make her way toward the exit, but before she could leave, Layla called out,

"Actually, on second thought, could you take a look at my injured hand? I know they treated it properly, but I think the bandages might be coming off."

The elderly nurse smiled kindly and nodded. She reminded Layla somewhat of her own grandmother who had passed away only the year before, causing an uncomfortable wave of guilt-induced nausea to apprehend her. But only for a moment. And a moment was not nearly enough to stop her.

The nurse leaned forward and gently took her by her injured hand. She examined her bandages for a moment before announcing, "There doesn't seem to be any-"

Layla grasped her swiftly by the neck and pressed her face hard into the nearest pillow, smothering her. The nurse began to shriek and cry out for help, but her pleas were too muffled to be heard. She kept her constrained until her screams subsided and she drooped to the floor.

"Sorry about that," Layla whispered, although she was fully aware the nurse could no longer hear her.

She did have to give Crane some credit. If anything, he had taught her to kill quite effortlessly. At least when necessary.

XXX

As much as she dreaded the place, Layla was forced to retreat back to the Narrows immediately after maneuvering her way out of the hospital. She had been walking only a few blocks when she noticed televisions in stores and newspaper articles with her name spread across them. There were headlines everywhere that varied from RED RIDING HOOD UNCOVERED AS SCARECROW'S APPRENTICE to LAYLA BAKER, PRESTIGIOUS DAUGHTERLY FIGURE TO BRUCE WAYNE, A KILLER?

Her name was out there now, just as much as Crane's was. And she knew there was nothing she could do about it.

"Apprentice," Layla spat as she glanced over one of the articles, "more like…"

_More like what_? _Tool, property, puppet?_

She crumbled up the newspaper and tossed it to the ground angrily before continuing down the street. She was going to enter the Narrows, maybe find a cheap place for herself (or maybe steal one, considering she was broke), and lay low for a while. There was no way she could ever return to Wayne Manor or be uncovered at all, for that matter. If she was, Crane would be the first at her doorstep, which terrified her. What she really needed to do was escape from the fucking city. Gotham clearly wasn't the place for her, but how was she supposed to do that? Obviously, any opportunity she had had at Stanford was shattered… Perhaps she could spend the next few years as a small time thief once more, maybe a drug dealer…

_Yeah, right, _hissed that stupid voice in her head. Constantly reminding her of what a failure she was, an idiot, a naïve little girl… _Like Crane's going to make it that easy for you._

XXX

Review please. :)


	31. Intruder

Chapter 31

Disclaimer: I do not own Batman Begins or any related characters.

XXX

Nearly four months had passed since Layla's last encounter with Crane, or anyone really, for that matter. She had successfully obtained an apartment for herself; a ratty little thing deeper into the Narrows, uncomfortably close to where she and Crane had stayed. But where else was she supposed to go when her name was one of the top on Gotham's wanted list?

She had taken to working at the small convenience store where she had met Ron and bought cigarettes months ago. It amazed her how quickly time passed, and how truly miserable she had become.

This morning, however, wasn't a work day for her. Today she needed more booze, as she'd run out on a drinking binge two nights previously and felt like she was going absolutely mad. Since her second exposure to Crane's toxin, her mind hadn't been quite "there" like before. She was perfectly coherent, but now she often experienced hallucinations and delusions. Even without toxin, she was still sometimes forced to view her rawest fears. Alcohol kept the madness at bay.

"Ron, do you have any bottles?" called Layla from the front counter. She and Ron had become something of good friends, and although Ron was fully aware of her history with Crane, he had fallen for her tale she'd spewed about being "forced to kill" and accepted her. In a way, he found her to be perfectly innocent.

"Gimme a minute, doll," came Ron's voice from the back room. He arrived at the cash register moments later, a cigarette stuck between his lips. "What kinda bottle?" he asked.

"The usual. Absolut. If you're out I'll take the cheaper stuff."

"Ya know, Miss Layla, I been kinda worried lately," Ron confessed, setting Layla's choice in alcohol on top of the counter.

"About what?" asked Layla.

Ron raised an eyebrow. "_You_," he said matter-of-factly. "You been drinkin' a bit too much lately."

"Oh, that's nothing," Layla replied with a shrug. She needed to put off her drinking habits as if they weren't excessive. After all, she didn't want Ron to quit selling to her.

Ron sighed and moved on from the topic. He knew it was practically pointless. "You been watchin' the news lately?"

Layla typically avoided the news unless it was absolutely necessary. She liked to pretend the last six months had never happened. "No, why?"

"There 'ave been over two-hundred fear toxin related attacks in the last two weeks. Tons of new crazies in Arkham. On top o' the Joker an' all, this city is going to hell. Bet Batman's got his work cut out for him."

_Sigh. _Bruce.

"I'm unconcerned with the antics in this city. Especially anything involving Crane. There's a reason he's the second-rate villain around here," said Layla bitterly.

"I guess," Ron agreed, although he seemed skeptical. "Just be careful, all right?"

"I'm sure he's forgotten all about me by now," said Layla hopefully. _No, he hasn't_. "Anyway, do you know where I could get Seroquel?"

"Seroquel?" said Ron suspiciously. "That ain't a typical recreational drug."

"Not for recreational purposes. For psychological ones."

"You been seein' those hallucinations again?"

"They don't _stop_," said Layla sharply. "Not permanently."

Ron heaved a sigh. "All right, I'll call my friend. I'm sure he can work somethin' out."

Layla grinned. It felt like her first true smile in months. "Thanks Ron, you're the best."

"I know," said Ron with a smirk. "Careful gettin' home. Ease up on the booze a bit."

"Will do."

_Yeah, right_.

XXX

Layla had purposely chosen an apartment so near to the convenience store, despite its uncomfortable closeness to Crane's old apartment. Although she and Ron had remained strictly friends the last few months, she felt extremely safe and comforted when she was with him, so she made an effort to be around him a significant amount of time. She didn't see him as the typical kind of guy she would normally date, but perhaps it was time to make an exception.

After all, she had slept with a psychopath before. Ron _had _to be an improvement.

Layla held the bottles of Absolut against her chest and struggled to unlock her apartment door. Fucking key. Always getting stuck.

She pressed her weight against the door and it opened with a groan. She immediately made her way to the living room and plopped onto the couch, setting her alcohol aside for a moment and placing her face in her hands. She had to cry sometimes, as weak as it made her feel. At least no one was around to see.

When Layla was finished, she cleaned the smeared mascara off her face and undid the top of the bottle with a soft _pop_. She took small shots until she was tipsy, then headed to her bedroom. There was no point in getting wasted in she was just going to go to sleep.

Layla habitually reached for the light switch upon entering her room. She kept the light on now when she slept each night. Always. However, the typical glow did not spill to the room, and an uneasy feeling of anxiety settled in her throat and stomach. She exhaled. The bulb must've gone out, nothing to feel anxious about. She turned to the closet nearby her bed to recover a fresh one.

"Achluophobia. Fear of the dark, common mostly in young children. Is a girl your age really incapable of sleeping with the lights off, Miss Baker?"

The bulb in Layla's hand slipped from between her fingers and hit the floor. It shattered on impact.

His voice. Crane's voice. He was in her room. He was standing behind her.

_Don't be afraid. Don't be afraid. _

Layla clenched her fists and attempted to speak, but she could come up with no suitable response.

"Aren't you going to turn around? It's quite rude not to look at someone when they're speaking to you."

She could feel his cruel, apathetic blue gaze boring a hole into her back. If she turned around, he'd burn one straight through her head.

_Don't be afraid._

"Would you like a drink, Dr. Crane?"

Crane chuckled. She could hear the amusement in his voice. "I'm not much of a drinker."

"I know," Layla replied calmly, "but I thought you could make an exception, considering we haven't seen each other in so long."

"Perhaps," Crane agreed, "if you'll turn around."

Layla nodded. She turned cautiously, scanning Crane for anything threatening as she faced him.

He was holding his mask.

"You look a bit… worn out, Miss Baker," Crane said. He circled her, examining from every angle. "What have you been doing to yourself these last few months?" He _tsked_, and Layla shrugged her shoulders slightly.

"Destroying myself, I suppose."

"There are better ways to accomplish that," Crane said silkily.

Layla exhaled. Her hands were shaking. There was no way he didn't notice. "Why are you here?"

Crane simply stepped nearer to her until she had nowhere else to go and was pressed against the wall. Layla kept her eyes on the floor. Crane gripped her by the face, forcing her to look at him.

"Don't… hurt me," she squeaked. God, she sounded like a fucking frightened little _child_.

Crane smiled cruelly.

"I won't. Much."

XXX

The next chapter of this story is going to be last.

Reviews would be greatly appreciated. :)


	32. Sabotage

Chapter 32

Disclaimer: I do not own Batman begins or any relating characters.

This is the last chapter! Enjoy.

XXX

Layla thought it had all been a dream, possibly a hallucination. Despite the fact that the surface underneath her felt metallic and cold, and there seemed to leather straps clasping her down, she still hoped none of it was real. Maybe she was having a nightmare.

She opened her eyes, and her optimism shattered. This was certainly not her home. She had no idea where this dark, damp place was. The pitch black caused her to shudder, a flood of fresh anxiety taking ahold of her.

Crane had pricked her with some type of needle back at the apartment. But she had expected to die right then and there. Why was she still alive?

She began to struggle, thrashing her limbs about in hopes that they would loosen enough for her to escape. The only thing she managed to accomplish was potentially bruising her wrists.

"Don't strain yourself, Miss Baker. I've had much experience properly strapping patients down in the past."

Layla whipped her head in the direction of Crane's voice. He was standing several feet away from her, a dense metal table beside him. On top of said table were various injections.

There had to be lead in Layla's stomach. That was the only explanation for the sudden panic-induced heaviness she felt.

"Where are we?" Layla demanded, though the shakiness in her voice made the demand seem much less hostile.

"The basement in Arkham Asylum, naturally. This is the place where my research first began, after all," Crane answered calmly.

Now for the question she was most dreading to ask. "…why am I here?"

Crane smiled maliciously. He looked like a cat about to pounce on his next meal.

"Experimentation," he replied coolly.

Layla's entire body began to tremble. The sudden lump in her throat nearly choked her. "Please don't hurt me," she whimpered. She hated herself for giving him exactly what he wanted out of her, but really, what was the point? He knew she was afraid. And he still would've known had she put on her bravest mask.

Crane stood over her with a smirk, grasping of piece of her red hair between his fingers. "You should consider yourself privileged, Lay-_la_. This is the strongest serum I've developed so far, and you'll be the first to experience it."

There were tears growing in Layla's eyes that she fought to hold back. She asked with great hesitation, "I'm not going to walk out of here alive, am I?"

Crane's reply came easily, as though they were discussing the weather, "No."

The tears spilled over. She was going to die. And she was going to die in one of the most terrifying ways. Literally. She felt so fucking _stupid_, so used, so betrayed. For the first time since her days in Foster Care, she felt like hurting herself. How could she have been so _naïve_? She had _cared_ about Crane, even felt sorry for him at times.

How could she have so easily allowed herself to become a pawn?

"Doctor Crane, please," said Layla frantically, as he picked up a needle from the metal table, "don't kill me."

_This is how you're going to die? Begging?_

When Crane said nothing, Layla went on, "I-I'll help you. Please."

_You're a fucking coward._

"I have no further use for you, Layla, but I appreciate the offer," said Crane coolly.

_You're going to die the spineless little bitch who begged Scarecrow for her life._

The needled pricked her skin.

_You deserve to die._

She screamed until her throat felt as though it was going to burst.

XXX

Crane gazed down at Layla's body, an eyebrow raised and a smirk curling along his lips. Stupid, naïve little girl. He had truly enjoyed having her around; in a way, he almost regretted her death. The way he was so easily able to manipulate her into squirming had been quite amusing for him, but her murder was much more necessary.

He wasn't going to dispose of the body. He was going to preserve it and deliver it to the Batman.

In the beginning of his and Layla's "partnership," he had honestly planned to take advantage of her potential closeness with the Batman. He had been so pleased when she strolled into his office, arrogantly believing that they would maintain roles of equality in his plan to destroy Gotham. How juvenile of her.

However, the plan he developed had taken a sharp turn the day Layla had played hostage and visited Mr. Wayne. When he saw Bruce's hesitance to choose between Layla and the city of Gotham, he knew exactly what he had to do.

He was going to break him. And Layla was the perfect tool for sabotage.

THE END

XXX

I hope you guys enjoyed the story! :3 I loved writing it, but it had to end sometime. I'd still appreciate reviews although it's over now.

Also, I've started another Crane fic called "Clarity". It's more in the way of romance, but Crane's still going to maintain his overall creepiness, don't worry.


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